And I'll Be Damned if I Do and I'll Be Damned if I Don't
by EchoFallsFromGrace
Summary: NOW WITH EPILOGUE! Cordelia Goode, Supreme, finds herself pregnant. But she hasn't had a physical relation since Hank Foxx died. 3 parts, eventual Foxxay.
1. Chapter 1

**Part 2 will be up soon! I had to cut this one up because it's too big (around 20k in all).  
**

**Headcanoned with and beta-ed by graceonce  
**

**_And Every Demon Wants His Pound of Flesh_**

The bump was new, almost impossible to notice, but she had. It was her body after all. She passed her hand over her previously flat stomach, fingernails raking at tender skin, a small frown overtaking her as she shifted her gaze from her navel to the mirror and back. She would have been lying to herself if she'd said it wasn't worrying her, this slight bump over her abdomen. She'd wondered if she was gaining weight for a few days, which could have been utterly natural with the stress and her age, no matter how hard she tried to make herself believe she wasn't getting older, but the scale showed the same number every morning, give or take a few grams. She'd wondered if something was broken inside of her, an inflamed appendix, kidney, something not completely right between her ribcage and her pelvis, but she was fine, too healthy, almost.

She'd even thought of menopause.

The last possibility as to the sudden change in her body made her blood freeze within her veins, made her fingers tremble, made her want to throw up in the toilet at the thought of suddenly carrying a life within her, though she didn't want to vomit. It would make it so much more real.

She'd flipped through her calendar with angry tugs, ripping through half of November as she searched the dates she'd written down from when her husband had been alive, from when they had last made love, last tried to have a child. It didn't match up. He was dead and he was gone and there was no way she was pregnant. He had been the last person she had laid down with, the last one who had spilled his seed within her, and she cried at the simple thought of something happening without her knowledge, though she recollected every waking moment. It was impossible.

She tied a cardigan around her waist loosely that morning. She wasn't showing, whatever it was that was plaguing her, but there was a constant nagging in the back of her mind that she was, and she kept her arms crossed over her chest, her posture set, breathing tight. If her council, her students, noticed her change in demeanor, her light frown, they said nothing.

She woke before dawn the next day, oddly calm as she turned to hang over the side of her bed and vomited onto the white floorboards, and she paused there for the longest time, the sun raising outside as she watched her own insides.  
Cordelia Goode, headmistress, Supreme, widow, was pregnant.

OOOoooOOO

She wanted to talk, she was used to talking when she needed to, when she had to get something off her chest. She was used to sitting down with a cup of tea and pouring her heart out until something made sense. And lately nothing made sense. But her mother was gone, Myrtle in ashes, Misty tossed through harsh winds. Nan laid in the ground, six feet under, and even though she could have easily brought Madison Montgomery back from her black hole after finding her decomposing body, Spalding's ghost whispering in her ear, she hadn't. The girl had been too tortured in life, there was no reason to give her anything but a peaceful rest in the afterlife.

Her soul had given birth to yellow roses in the backyard, surrounded by Myrtle's lilies and Misty's pansies.

She missed her girls, even though they were by her side, the ones that were left. She missed Zoe and Queenie being so deliriously young, so naive and deceptively harmless. Now they were bulldogs, protecting both her and the Coven, the new bodies that inhabited the old academy. Bulldogs that she wished still had time to sit down and chat more often than they did now.

She spied Zoe sitting inside her room, scribbling quickly in one of her class binders, and knocked lightly on the door. The girl's head snapped up and she grinned, motioning her in with a brisk wave of her hand. The Supreme sat on her bed, crossing her legs beneath her floral printed skirt.

"What's up?" Zoe asked, turning in her chair.

"How are you?"

"Me?" The black widow gazed back, light surprise tainting her hazel eyes, but she finally shrugged. "I'm fine."

"And Kyle?"

"He's good, very thankful. Or are you asking if our relationship is doing well?"

"I meant him." Cordelia smiled, but sobered quickly. "Is he still walking around at night?"

"No, he's settled down since the new girls came in. He scared too many while they got up to go the bathroom. That and he's afraid, he thinks something'll happen to me while he's away, though don't tell him I told you that," Zoe laughed. "Why?"

The Supreme shook her head. "I was just wondering."

Zoe sat up straight. "Miss Cordelia, are you okay? You're shaking."

"You know me, I drank too much coffee."

"You need sleep, not coffee, you know that."

Cordelia nodded. "I know." She scratched at her temple before laying her hand back in her lap to meet her other one. "Do you want to have dinner with me this weekend? I was going to ask Queenie too, right after. It's labor day so most of the girls will go home, we'll have time for ourselves."

Zoe smiled. "I'd love to. Is Kyle invited?"

The headmistress breathed out, nodding after a moment. "Of course."

OOOoooOOO

She'd bought three pregnancy tests, thrown them at the bottom of her purse as soon as she'd bought them, and hadn't looked at them until midnight struck and she was the last soul awake, even Kyle having gone back to his room. And the next morning she'd called the doctor's office.

She liked a fourth opinion.

How she had come to be three months along without noticing she didn't know.

The woman had told her it was normal she hadn't if she hadn't even thought of the possibility, and even though Cordelia's cheeks had burned as she'd blurted out that there was no father, the doctor had only smiled and written her in for the next appointment, unaware that inside, Cordelia screamed to know who was.

She could breathe a little, between Zoe keeping a tight eye on him and knowing his personality, there was no way Kyle was the father.

She hated herself for even thinking of it.

She was desperate.

She did her best to hide her morning sickness, closing her eyes and wishing as the dawn broke and as her insides covered her bathroom floor that no one could hear. Hoping that if they did, they thought she had the flu. Praying no one remembered one of the Supreme's cardinal rules. Perfect health.

She began hiding the fact that she didn't drink wine anymore. Steadily emptied the bottles into glasses and then into the sink, letting the purple rims hide her shame. The shame of not knowing.

And she hugged the tiniest girls to her in such a grip that they could only hold her back, let her get used to holding a child in her arms. She laughed when they giggled and played with her hair and she took longer to bid them goodnight. She wished she could read them bedtime stories but even they were a little old. She wondered if the child within her would want to be held, would want to play, would even like her. The possibility that she didn't bond with the infant was so very real to her, the women in her family had always had an issue bonding with their kids.

Sunday came quickly, and along with it the shaking in her fingers, shaking more than ever, more than when she had opened the academy to the world, and her knees trembled beneath her skirt and she prayed the fabric hid them. She prayed she wouldn't break down, her fingers tight around the tissues in her jacket's pocket.

She'd had a local restaurant cater to the academy, the girls and Kyle, knowing their tastes enough now to comfortably order for them, hand placed on her stomach as she twisted the phone's cord in between her free fingers, the phone in the crook of her neck and resting on her shoulder as she paced around the kitchen, feeling like a parody of a 90s sitcom. The episode in which the celibate is pregnant. _How embarrassing_. She figured she could have thrown her shoes off while she was at it.

Her council ate heartily, ignoring the fact that the Supreme only picked around her plate, though she thought she had heard Zoe's fleeting _'I should ask, but it's probably nerves_'. She was suddenly craving pomegranate, and she itched to push her chair back and go to the kitchen, but she stayed herself and stopped from running away. She finally pressed her hand to the oaken table, staying her fluttering heart.

"Queenie, Zoe," Cordelia breathed in deeply, tightly, and the girls looked up, pausing their conversation. "Kyle. I'm pregnant."

The three in front of her froze, and Zoe's fingers began picking furiously at her armrest's fabric. She forced a smile, her inability to understand shining past the happiness the Supreme had expected from her. "Miss Cordelia, that's wonderful."

"IVF treatment?" Queenie asked, peering at her. Zoe deflated lightly, the words tumbling in her head thrown out of the older girl's mouth.

Cordelia swallowed lightly, turning away to look out the windows, wincing at the blinding sun. "Yes."

"Cordelia, why didn't you tell us before?" Zoe asked. "We could have gotten ready, made sure you had the proper diet and exercise, less stress-"

"Zoe, it's fine," the Supreme said quickly. "It-The doctor hadn't thought it would work, which is why I didn't tell you, I didn't want to bring your hopes up."

"You can't hide secrets from us, Miss Cordelia. That was the deal."

"This isn't Coven business," Cordelia replied forcefully. She passed the back of her hand across her forehead and sighed. "I'm sorry, girls, I'm just, this is weird for me too."

"How far along are you?" Kyle asked softly.

"Thirteen weeks."

Queenie frowned. "You are happy, right?"

"Yes, yes I am." The Supreme nodded, the lie burning into the back of her throat. "Again, I wasn't expecting it so, you know, my life is going to be thrown upside down, isn't it? Yours too."

"Anyone else know?"

"You're the first to find out," Cordelia said. She smiled a little sadly. "Who else would I have told?" She'd told Myrtle. Madison. Misty. Her mother. "No, keep it to yourselves until I can't hide it anymore."

"But why? Shouldn't this be a joyous occasion?" Kyle asked, cocking his head to the side, curls flowing around his face. "Shouldn't the Coven know?"

"Kyle." Zoe took his hand. "It's her decision."

"I don't understand."

_Neither do we._

Cordelia shook her head, shaking it free of the flying thoughts, wondering why she could suddenly hear her girls' stereo hearts and blaming it on the pregnancy. "It's just a personal choice, I don't need anyone worrying about me, it's a child, not a disease. And I have perfect health, right?" She gave them a tight smile. "I'll be fine."

"Don't you want help?" Zoe asked softly. "You'll need aunts, an uncle." She shared a look with Queenie. "We want to be that for you."

"I'll be fine."

OOOoooOOO

As uncharacteristic as it was of her, she thought of abortion. Of adoption. She thought of any way she could possibly save the child without having to take care of the infant inside her.

She possibly couldn't.

For the longest time she had believed that a child would mend her own broken heart. She had thought giving birth to her own flesh and blood would have fixed the flesh and blood that was her mother. She thought that giving this toddler the childhood she had never had would make hers all the better.

She knew how life truly worked now.

She was too afraid to rear a child, too afraid to break it, hurt it, make it go through what she had gone through, and the fear much more outweighed the good. The Goode. The last year had proven it. She had lost too many of her children already, she would have no more. Life came in and ripped the infant from your arms and didn't look back. She didn't want any of it.

She raised her shirt and passed her hand over her stomach, watching her nails make light marks that disappeared quickly, a light scowl on her face.

Her head snapped up when her study's door was knocked on, and she stood to go open it, floorboards creaking beneath her careful steps. "Kyle?" There was no answer and she turned the doorknob, and stared into blood red eyes.

She backed up quickly, her own gaze snapping shut when she hit her desk and braced herself against it, knuckles white.

The demon standing outside came in, strolling. "Abortion, Cordelia Goode?" Papa Legba _tsk_ed, smiling. "No, no, no. That will not do."

The Supreme breathed out shakily.

"You will keep it," he rumbled.

She paused, biting the inside of her cheek. "I didn't think you'd suddenly care about my fate."

"Why should I not? It is my gift to you, Supreme."

She stared back, black eyes narrowed as her hand flew to her stomach, gripping there almost protectively. "Your gift?"

"I can read your eyes if not your mind," the loa smiled. "I did not do what you may think, I never visited you in the middle of the cold night." He let his blood red eyes rake over her. "Not that one would not." He shook his head. "No, I only visited your dreams."

She bristled lightly, backing up until her lower back hit the edge of her desk.  
Her voice wavered, threatening to break. "What have you done?" she asked. "What did you do?"

He raised his cane until he could prod it into her abdomen, the end twisting painfully until she could do nothing but gasp and push it away, and he grinned. "The boy growing inside you, is mine."

"No."

He shrugged lightly. "Only the truth."

Tears pricked at the back of her eyes and she fought to stop herself, but they fell down her cheeks angrily a moment later as she tightened her grip on her shirt. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

"When the time came, when you found out you carried. I love surprises." He looked her over. "You wonder why, you need not speak," he hissed out, voice deceptively smooth. "I am a generous man, but even a generous man needs compensation for what he has offered and done and given."

"I haven't summoned you, I never asked you for anything, and certainly not this!" she cried back. "If I once wanted a child, that time is over with. I have never spoken your name."

"Oh, you mistake me," he smiled, pressing his hand to his chest. "The child I have given you is not that you wished for so many nights, it is your payment." He raised his shoulders. "Think upon this, it is a blessing. You may raise him, a child of the divine."

"Payment for _what_?" she begged.

"Oh, have I not said?" he mused. The demon paced around the office, his gaze flitting from book to object to file cabinet, only to land back on the Supreme. "You'll know soon enough."

"Papa, sir-" Cordelia winced at the desperation in her voice. "Please, I don't want this, I can't have this, this baby, I can't take care of it-"

"Him."

"Him, I can't take care of him, I'm not equipped to, I'm not ready!"

"You are plenty ready, Supreme." He watched her carefully, amused. "You were ready before, when the fox ran the earth."

"I had next to no duties then," she bit back. "I was stupid then," she added.

"You wound me and my decision."

She reached for him, failing to grasp at his jackets. "Please-"

"Do not worry, Cordelia Goode. You will have help, in a form or another." He paused to scratch at the side of his nose with a sharp fingernail. "No, keep the boy. If you do not, well," he grinned. "Really, you do not want to know what would happen."

"Is that a threat?"

"One even a Supreme would believe," he answered easily. He began to walk towards the door, reaching out for the handle. "I will come when he is born, not before. Treat your body well." He paused. "Oh, I almost forgot."

Cordelia looked up, wiping at her tears.

"Your mother misses you."

OOOoooOOO

"Your child is perfectly healthy, Miss Goode."

"Are you sure? I'm not talking about your ability to do your job, of course, I just-"

"Worry?" the doctor finished for her. Blue gloves were removed and the woman sat down in her chair, motioning for the Supreme to sit up. "There's nothing to worry about, unless you have something to tell me. No, Miss Goode, perfectly healthy, I think it takes that from you."

"He."

The doctor smiled, amused. "If you say so."

Cordelia nodded softly, pulling her shirt down but keeping her hand against the hem.

"Why are you here, Miss Goode? Your appointment is next week, did something happen?" the woman asked. "I like honesty from all my moms-to-be, I can't help unless you're honest with me."

"Nothing happened, I just," Cordelia breathed in and braved a smile, shrugging lightly. "Stress, that's all it is."

"Well stop stressing, it's no good for the baby."

"Easier to say than do," the Supreme murmured.

"Is this about the father?" the doctor prodded. Cordelia's black eyes met hers and she raised her shoulders. "I took the liberty of going through your entry file. You were here almost two years ago, but hadn't been inseminated successfully. Hank Foxx was the donor then. Is this about him?"

"He's not the father."

"Biologically, or psychologically?"

"He's not the father," Cordelia repeated.

"Look, Cordelia, if I may?" The woman came to stand in front of the blonde, and reached for her hand. "Sometimes it can be hard, and I can't say I understand the situation that you're in, whichever situation that is, but think of the child growing inside of you, if nothing else. Whatever choice you may take in the next crucial weeks." The phrase '_twenty weeks_' rung in Cordelia's head, echoes from the doctor's own thoughts. "If you keep this child-"

"I'm keeping him."

"If you're keeping this child," she started again. "Be kind to yourself. I beg of you."

Cordelia nodded, turning away as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

OOOoooOOO

It wasn't possible that the child was kicking. It had no feet to do that with, Cordelia reminded herself, and yet she couldn't help the phantom pains that plagued her during the day and lulled her to sleep at night. _Results of stress_, Zoe would say, if she'd dared to tell her. _You're obviously worried_, Queenie would add. _It's normal_.

She wondered if Mary had told herself it was normal.

She'd skipped lunch, feeling too sick and too helpless to eat properly with the students now upstairs in the dining room, and instead stood in her greenhouse, mulling over her doctor's words as she looked around the room.

She'd expanded the basement since becoming Supreme, when she'd added herbology to the classes required, and there was now enough place for her to move around comfortably when her students worked by her side, buzzing like little ants. She didn't want to tread on them, and so she'd pushed the boundaries of her hill.

She moved around the room, brushing the pads of her fingers over her girls' projects, breathing life into the ones that faltered lightly under their care, and they breathed back their appreciation. She almost wanted to breathe down at herself. She would look ridiculous.

The Supreme finally sighed, pushing past a pot that had flourished under the care of a gifted thirteen year old, and reached for her own plant, the ends in flowers, and snipped one off. She began to crush it in the palm of her hand as she walked back to the island, and delicately placed it into a mortar, reaching for the pestle to finish the grinding.

A kettle was already on the fire in the corner, the water inside whistling out in harsh steam, and she reached over to turn it off, listening to it bubble inside its metal prison before she poured it into her favorite tea mug. The flower went in next. It floated for a moment before suddenly dissolving into blues and purples, and she sighed shortly as she reached for the sugar she'd brought down.

It worked like advil, this plant she'd mutated, but was safer, none of her girls who'd used it for their abdominal pains had ever complained of side effects.

As an after-thought, she reached for the valerian plant she kept in the upper shelves , she needed to sleep. She didn't want dreams and she didn't want stress. She just wanted to close her eyes and not wake up again until the sun shone bright. She wanted to salivate at the thought.

Wincing at yet another phantom pain, she didn't wait until the tea had cooled before she downed it.

OOOoooOOO

She woke and sighed, strong arms and an earthy aroma enveloping her, encircling her in a vice-like grip. She burrowed back into the warm body, mind registering that her dreams were much more real than they usually were, but that was nothing new, ghostly touches were nothing new. Frequent, almost. She knew she'd properly wake minutes from now, alone and cold, but she fought to stay in the realm of sleep, fought to keep the arms around her.

Her hair was moved to the side, falling from her shoulder and back onto the pillow, and she let out another sigh, burying her face into her sheets. The touch was too real. She figured the soft fingers belonged to one of the younger girls, that one of them had snuck into her room with the storm the night before. She'd told them often enough her door was always open, it wasn't rare that she was visited.

She breathed in sharply, fingers reaching down her body to tangle with the ones against her stomach, whoever's hand having paused there unknowingly cupping the child within her, and she pushed lightly, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Cordelia," the voice was soft, sleep-laden, and the Supreme blinked in the hazy sunlight, waiting. It came again, drawled out with a pinch of annoyance at the sudden morning. "Stop movin'."

The Supreme softened, and she closed her black eyes, chasing the last bit of dreams. "I'm awake, you have to go. That's how it works. You can't stay when I'm awake."

"Then send me away."

Cordelia laughed lightly, the fingers previously raking at her abdomen now against her ribs, tugging her closer to the ghost behind her.

"I don't want to go," the voice began again. "I don't think I will."

The alchemist suddenly grew annoyed, finding the torture cruel of the woman holding her to administer, and she began to turn in her bed, knowing from every previous encounter that when she did, Misty Day disappeared, her mind having dreamt her.

She gazed into sunkissed curls, the girl's ivory skin almost glowing in the sunlight, her eyes closed as if death had welcomed her, but her chest lifted in and out with life and her eyelids fluttered and Cordelia was crying at the injustice of seeing her, of feeling her warm breath against her hand as she lifted it to cup the girl's face.

Misty turned into her touch, smiling lazily when Cordelia breathed out shakily.

"Is this hell?"

"It'd be rather nice for hell, dont'cha think?" the wild blonde whispered back.

"No, it's not."

"Then heaven. I'm dead, aren't I."

Misty cracked an eye open. "You're not dead. I'm alive."

Cordelia was sobbing uncontrollably and the necromancer was watching her, still as the Supreme shook against her and turned to lay on her back, gazing up at the ceiling as her tears fell down her face and dotted the pillow.

Misty reached up and wiped them away with her thumb, the pads of her fingers. "God, I hate it when ya cry."

"You're not real. I hate nightmares," Cordelia whimpered out. "It's unfair."

"I'm no nightmare, Miss Delia."

"You fell apart in my arms and I called you back but you still fell apart and I had to watch Zoe gather your pieces. Your _pieces_, Misty."

The necromancer watched her, unable to find words to give her. "I am back," she replied weakly. "I wish you'd believe me." She shook her head, curls flying. "And I don't know why because I was somewhere dark and crowded and I can't explain it but I'm not there anymore, Delia, I'm here. And if you're dead, then so am I."

"Papa took you."

"I know."

"Papa Legba," Cordelia breathed back, chest evening out.

"I-" Misty frowned. "Yeah."

The Supreme pulled the girl's hand to her, her free fingers pulling at the hem of her shirt until she'd brought it up over her ribs, and she placed the necromancer's hand against her stomach, Misty's blue-green eyes wide and watching her with a mix of curiosity and fear as she did, and she upturned her black gaze to peer at the necromancer, tears free-falling silently.

"Payment."

Misty went to retract her hand but Cordelia pulled her back.

"I don't understand," the necromancer said softly.

"I wished for you, Misty, I wished that you had another chance and that I hadn't failed you," Cordelia murmured. "You're here because _he's_-" she pressed the girl's hand against her. "-in here."

"Miss Delia, are ya-" the necromancer pulled away and she sat up, chest heaving erratically. "Please explain before I forget to breathe."

The Supreme followed her up, pressing her forehead to the girl's strong shoulder as she wiped at her cheeks. "I'm pregnant, Misty."

"Jesus."

"Because of you."

The wild blonde turned suddenly, gazing her down, her voice wavering with light humor as she tried to dissipate both her anxiousness and the Supreme's. "I don't know much 'bout no biology, but I'm pretty sure that can't happen."

"No, no I mean-" Cordelia took a deep breath, organizing her muddled thoughts for the longest time before she tried again. "Papa visited me, he, he put this child inside me, this boy, saying I was to raise him as payment. I thought, I didn't know what he meant, payment for what?"

"Ya-" she paused. "Ya and Papa-?"

"No, no, Misty no."

"But it's his."

Cordelia bit her lower lip, closing her black eyes, and she nodded. "It was payment for you. I wished for you, I wished you out of hell, and you're here."

"That sounds like a lot to pay for me, a kid?"

"I can't say I wasn't surprised, scared. I didn't summon him, Misty," Cordelia admitted, voice breaking. "I never thought to. I still am scared. But now it makes sense, all of this."

"Cordelia?"

The Supreme looked up into teary blue-green eyes, and she nodded softly, asking the girl to go on.

"Can we talk about this later? I'd just like to sleep."


	2. Chapter 2

**Headcanoned with and beta-ed by graceonce**

_**But I like to keep some things to myself **_

Her alarm had rung and she'd practically lunged to shut it off, hand slapping down repeatedly until the clock stopped its ringing, and she'd turned quickly to look over Misty, the necromancer very real and very much still in her bed, sleeping soundly. She hadn't even moved. And Cordelia could breathe easy.

Barely an hour had passed since the wild blonde had fallen back asleep, back turned to the Supreme but with her fingers tangled with Cordelia's, as if she too had been afraid she'd wake somewhere else, as if Cordelia was her anchor to the real world. The headmistress hadn't minded.

She brought the comforter up to Misty's shoulders and slipped out of the room, heading to the kitchen, steps slow. Though it made sense, the child and Misty and Papa, it didn't make sense. The idea was simple enough, the idea of a favor and its return.

She felt lightly numb. Though she had cried over the girl's death, she had never thought of the possibility of her being back, of her talking and breathing, and it made her panic lightly, the way she had no idea how to feel about the situation. Misty deserved a reaction, more than what she'd given, but she wasn't sure she could give it.

She fetched two cups of tea, green for Misty with a hint of sugar and earl grey for herself, unsure that the girl could stomach solid food, and when she opened her bedroom door, Misty was sitting cross legged on the mattress and with the comforter around her shoulders, making a mess of the Supreme's once pristine covers. She gazed the Supreme over with narrowed blue-green eyes, before finally sighing and moving aside. She'd always been able to take up the largest amount of space.

But Cordelia shook her head and sat down on the floor in front of her, holding out the mug. Misty took it gratefully, letting out an appreciative hum when the warmth hit the back of her throat.

"Are you alright?" the Supreme asked softly.

"Yeah, why?"

"You were stuck in hell," Cordelia reminded her gently. She looked away. "It might be rude of me to be asking so quickly, I'm so sorry."

"No, Cordelia, it's alright." Misty's fingers drummed on the side of her teacup. "I don't remember anything. I mean, I remember before I went, I remember goin', but I don't remember it, my time there. Which is good I guess. I don't think it was no good down there and I'm glad I'm blissfully stupid about it."

Cordelia shot her a warning look.

"I still don't understand, though. This, this pregnancy. Me bein' back. I don't understand how it all ties in together. I'm not even sure I know if I _want _to know," Misty said softly. She looked up, stricken. "You're pregnant," she repeated. "Actually pregnant. And it's my fault."

"Misty, it's not your fault."

"Do ya even want this child?" Misty asked quickly.

"I don't have a choice," Cordelia replied. "You're here now, and he's coming, and I'm not letting you go back."

The necromancer's shoulders fell, breath slipping out of her body. "Why would ya wish me back so hard?"

"You didn't deserve anything you got." Cordelia's gaze fell to the floor. "I told you this morning, I hadn't even thought of asking Papa, I'd wanted you back but I'd never truly looked into how to do it, I was too afraid I'd get my hopes up. So I just prayed. And I'm a coward for that. But if you're going to ask me if I regret it?" The Supreme looked up. "I don't."

"The child?"

"Getting you back."

Misty bit her lower lip, eyes sliding to the woman's waist. "How far along are you?"

"Fifteen weeks."

"Jesus Christ on a burnin' stick." Misty's head dropped into her hands, her elbows digging into the top of her thighs. "God, I'm so sorry." She threw her arm out angrily, sadly. "How can ya be so okay with this? You're fuckin' pregnant!"

"Isn't that what I wanted?" Cordelia asked softly.

The necromancer softened. "Can I be honest?"

"Always."

"I'm glad I can't remember my hell. I'm glad because we both know I wouldn't have been okay if I did," Misty began. "And because this way I can take care of ya. That child-" She pointed at Cordelia's stomach. "-is in there because of me, and ya can bet your ass I'm gonna take care of it with ya, even if I don't really understand what's goin' on, or how to raise anythin' but plants. And I don't wanna hear any protests about it."

"Misty-"

"None."

Cordelia shook her head, mouthing a 'thank you' through her gasped tears.

OOOoooOOO

It had taken a few hours, but Cordelia had calmly answered all of Misty's questions, more than happy to help her work through the hazy afterglow that was her thoughts. The day, the month, the year. It hadn't been as long as the necromancer had originally guessed, seven months give or take, but the Supreme had explained how long it felt, how hard it had initially hurt and then how it had turned into a dim pain at the bottom of her spine, prickling whenever she thought too hard, let her mind wander. The wild blonde had squeezed her hand then, sighing and murmuring how she had missed her too, no matter that time had meant nothing to her. She herself hadn't changed much, in fact, Cordelia was sure that if she'd remembered her last conversation before death, she'd have kept right on going with it. It unnerved the Supreme slightly.

The necromancer learned too much too quickly, her scowl growing at each pass of information she got, knee jiggling with anger or sadness. Madison was dead. Myrtle was dead. Fiona was dead. Witches were known.

Cordelia had asked her to stay inside her room until she herself could break the news, having told Zoe and Queenie to round the girls for a sudden school meeting, and had dug into her closet for Stevie Nick's shawl, Misty hugging it tight at the sight of her idol's gift.

She circled the room with it on, dancing on light feet, humming and smiling at Cordelia when black eyes met her blue-green ones. She paused mid-swing, suddenly self-conscious as she blushed and tightened the wrap around her shoulders, and went to sit at her side.

"I missed this. And the girls," she said softly. "Have they changed?"

"Zoe grew another inch, which is annoying. And most likely impossible, at her age. I suspect foul play." Cordelia smiled. "She's grown up so much, Misty. Her and Queenie. And Kyle's been working on mathematics and he can do basic algebra again, he's so happy. I think you'll be proud."

"I already am." Misty glanced down at the woman's stomach, something she'd taken to doing almost too many times since she'd been back that morning. It bothered Cordelia already. "Do they know?"

"I told them two weeks ago."

"Are ya gonna tell them it's mine?" Misty asked. She shook her head. "My fault?"

"It's not your fault. And I don't think so, not yet. They'd get worried about Papa, and I don't want that. The Coven is at peace again, I don't need them worrying, stressing, for almost nothing. This is my issue, his issue. Not theirs."

"My issue," Misty echoed. Cordelia cast her a long look, but finally let it slide. "Maybe ya should let them worry. Ya shouldn't carry all the stress by yourself, and ya won't let me carry it all. And this isn't almost nothing, you've been impregnated by a freakin' demon."

"Don't say that word," Cordelia begged, hand clasping at her stomach.

"Sorry, but this isn't no small frog, Delia." Misty shook her head, curls bouncing.

"We'll talk about this later, alright? For now, you're back and we'll celebrate. This can wait."

"Not for long."

"Misty, it can wait," the Supreme replied. She softened. "I'll be fine, and I'll let you help. Just don't rush me." The necromancer nodded and leaned in to hug her briefly, carefully, as if she were fragile, and Cordelia couldn't help but wish that she wasn't.

OOOoooOOO

Misty was finding it hard to leave Cordelia's side, knowing time had passed for everyone but herself, and the Supreme had watched her shuffle awkwardly at her elbow, smiling lightly at the sea of gazes watching her without much judgement, either good or bad. She'd watched Zoe squeal out and run to the girl, hugging her tight as Queenie tried to fist-bump her, though Misty failed, smashing her fingers into hard knuckles instead and divulging into giggles when the voodoo doll laughed.

She'd proclaimed her power shyly when prompted, a chorus of awe shifting through the living room as soon as she had and Cordelia knew the necromancer was relaxing, her spine softening at the sudden approval. She'd turned to grin, eyebrows up, and the Supreme had grinned back. She fought giving her a thumps-up. It was such a mom thing to do.

Kyle had brought out the alcoholic free sparkling wine for the occasion, passing flutes left and right and Cordelia accepted one gladly, Misty watching her over the rim of her own glass. The necromancer turned away only when she didn't taste the alcohol they weren't drinking.

A sudden wave of nausea passed over the Supreme and she delicately placed her glass onto a nearby table before exiting the living room, hand to her mouth. She crossed to the kitchen, black eyes on the outside world as she leaned over the sink, and waited for it to pass, breathing lightly through her nose, afraid to expand her lungs.

She shifted when an aura joined hers, but it was only the wild blonde, and she softened when a warm hand began to rub at her lower back, her head lolling forward. She hummed lightly as the necromancer did, as if they prayed together.

Cordelia wasn't sure but she'd thought she'd heard three stifled songs pass before the necromancer spoke.

"I can't believe I missed all of spring. Summer," Misty sighed shortly. "I'm back to winter again."

Cordelia glanced sideways at her, reaching over to rub the palm of her hand along her upper arm. "There'll be another spring," she reminded her. Unsatisfied, Misty turned away from the window. She kept her grip on the woman's spine. "There's always another spring," the Supreme added.

"Not always." The necromancer wriggled her nose, but seeing Cordelia's dejected look, she sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm just...déboussolé."

"Misty, I don't-"

"The word isn't comin' to me." The wild blonde looked to the ceiling thoughtfully. Finally, she smiled. "My ma used to say that word. Confused. Lost. Literally without a compass."

"It's a good word."

"It's how I feel. Between the seasons and the academy, death." She looked to Cordelia. "Life."

"It's understandable. But spring is renewal, Misty. You'll be alright, I promise you that."

"Then so will ya."

Cordelia's gaze slid away and she crossed her arms, nodding. "I hope so."

"Hey," Misty tugged the Supreme's hands away from her waist and pulled her to her. "Hey, we'll get our springs together, the both of us." She smiled. "Well, three."

The older blonde shook her head and rolled her eyes lightly, but suddenly she was reaching for her nose, wiping at it. "I don't know if he'll have a spring. Is there a spring in hell?"

"Whatcha mean?"

"I don't know when Papa will take him, he said he would visit again when I gave birth to him, what if he has no spring? What if he takes him as a day-old child and he never sees the sun?"

"A baby needs its mama. I'll fight for that, and I may not know much but I know that."

The older blonde nodded softly, and she breathed in. "It's how I feel too, Misty. Déboussolé," Cordelia explained, watching blue-green eyes turn inquisitively. She nudged lightly at the girl. "It's your celebration, Misty, go back out there. Don't let me bring you down."

"Come with me," Misty said. She pulled on the woman's hands until they wrapped around her waist. "Or I'll stay in here with ya, it don't matter to me." She pressed her nose into blonde strands when the Supreme tightened her hold on her. "Ya ever waltz?"

"I'm pretty sure that's Maroon 5."

"This one's got a four four beat, it works," Misty laughed. "Come on."

Cordelia shook her head. "Can we just stand here?"

The necromancer nodded, suddenly serious. "Anythin' ya want." She gave her a quick grin. "It's true that I wouldn't want ya throwin' up all over me."

The Supreme ducked her head beneath her chin. "Shut up." She bit her lower lip. "Misty?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm so glad you're back."

"Yeah. Yeah I am too."

OOOoooOOO

"Where ya goin'?"

Cordelia turned as she fitted her jacket over her shoulders, frowning lightly at the tired necromancer walking down the hallway towards her. She fixed her hair over her collar and cocked her head to the side. "I have a doctor's appointment," she said. "For the baby. Fourth to fifth month."

"Can I come?"

The Supreme smiled lightly, taking in the girl's disheveled nature. "You want to come?"

The necromancer stood and crossed to gaze her down before she ducked to fetch her boots from beside the door, from in between a few other pairs that hadn't been put away. Cordelia watched her, knowing that the wild blonde kept her shoes down in the lobby because Queenie kept too many in their closet.

She'd moved Misty back into her old room, the council member more than happy to share with her again, since she'd come back. She'd wanted to ask Misty to stay in her room, thinking she'd move in another bed, but the necromancer stayed up so late into the night with her anyway that she might as well have been sleeping in her room. They'd fallen asleep on each other's shoulders before, Cordelia waking before dawn to make her move back into her own bed so they could both have a few hours rest, proper rest.

"I told ya, this is my charge too," Misty said, tugging on a boot.

"What do I say if the doctor asks what you're doing with me?"

"What, they don't allow friends?" The girl shrugged. "Just say I'm your sister or somethin'. The hair works."

"I guess."

Misty turned to stare at her. "Ya ain't walkin' out that door by yourself, Miss Goode, not when you're pregnant. Anythin' could happen. Don't be stupid."

"I'm a big girl, Misty."

"And that's a very small boy," Misty replied. She scowled. "You're lucky I can't drive, otherwise I would be. Is Zoe available?"

"It's eight in the morning, Zoe is asleep. That's the wrong foot."

The necromancer glanced down and smiled. "So it is." She fixed her shoes, taking a moment before she followed Cordelia out of the mansion and closed the door behind her, jumping down the front stairs and skipping to the car. The Supreme rolled her eyes when the Audi door was held open for her, but she sat behind the wheel anyway and waited for the girl to reach back to the passenger seat.

She put the key in the ignition as Misty fixed her smudged makeup in the side mirror, rubbing sleep out of her eyes as she hummed lightly.

They watched the sunrise together over the city's horizon, in between traffic lights and four way intersections, and Cordelia reached over for Misty's hands, flirting with her fingers momentarily before she pulled her arm back into her lap. The wild blonde leaned towards her and took her hand back, squeezing it lightly before tangling her fingers with hers, far from letting go.

Cordelia's spine relaxed.

Misty opened her door before she could turn the car's engine off, and she shook her head, accepting the help, though she was sure she was far from tittering like a beached whale just yet.

The woman before her was taking longer in her appointment than scheduled, and Cordelia sat in the waiting room with her legs crossed and her foot moving up and down rapidly, chewing on the inside of her cheek. She noticed Misty glancing sideways at her and fought to slow her heart down, but the necromancer leaning in to speak to her only made her breathe harder.

"Ya okay?"

Cordelia nodded, but then she was shaking her head no, turning to watch the wild blonde. "Misty."

"Yeah."

"Misty what if he's not, you know-" the Supreme breathed in tightly. "Normal."

"Whatcha mean?"

"He's Papa's child," Cordelia whispered, bringing her hand up to bite at her thumbnail.

The necromancer sighed. "He's yours too, Delia."

"I never said I was right to raise a child," the older blonde mumbled back. "I'm afraid."

"Ain't that normal?" Misty asked. "To be afraid? I'd be worried if you weren't. Cordelia, if anybody's fit to raise a child, it's ya."

"Bullshit."

The wild blonde's eyebrows raised.

"What if I fail it? Him? What if I mess up so bad he turns out worse than me?"

"Ain't nothin' wrong with ya," Misty snapped back. She softened, reaching for Cordelia's hand. "I get what you're sayin', I was always worried I'd get aggressive when I grew up, that I'd get physically and verbally abusive too. I turned out alright, didn't I? So why can't he? He's gonna have an amazin' ma. Ya helped me and ya can help him."

Cordelia breathed out.

She tugged Misty with her into the doctor's office when her name was called, the wild blonde following faithfully, her smile braver than the Supreme's as she was asked to lay back and lift her shirt. Cordelia watched her fight to press her hands to her abdomen protectively, like she tended to do, and instead the necromancer rested her knuckles on the edge of the seat.

Cordelia's doctor turned, smiling as she pulled on blue gloves and reached for the ultrasound equipment. "Are you ready to find out what the gender of your baby is?"

"Sex," Misty corrected quietly. "Not gender."

"Sorry."

"Yes, I am," the older blonde said quickly. "Please."

"Still sure it's a boy?"

"Positive."

The Supreme hissed quietly when the cold gel was spread over her stomach, but her black eyes stayed glued to the screen at her side, along with Misty's blue-green gaze. They waited a moment as the woman moved the sound around, as she peered at the white and black and gray lines appearing and reappearing and shifting to make shapes.

"There's the head, the chest." She pointed them out. "Your baby looks like it's in the right position to see what it is. Let's see-"

Misty leaned forward as Cordelia craned her neck as best she could.

"You can breathe, Miss Goode, about your baby purchases. It's a boy."

Cordelia's eyes closed and she barely registered the kiss being pressed onto her forehead by a trembling necromancer, her hand being squeezed until her fingers turned cold.

"Would you like pictures?"

"Yes, yes please," Misty answered. She glanced down at Cordelia. "Zoe'll want them taped to the fridge."

OOOoooOOO

"I think he'd look good in blue. He looks like a blue kinda kid."

"I don't think you can tell from an ultrasound picture, Misty."

The necromancer lowered her hands, the photograph she'd began to tuck into her wallet three weeks before in between her fingers, and she frowned. "He looks like a blue kinda kid, Delia."

"There's a very big chance-" The Supreme paused and glanced around before stepping closer to the girl. "There's a very big chance he might be of a darker complexion. That blue would look horrible."

"A darker complexion? Like, black?"

"He's Papa's child," Cordelia murmured, fingering a shirt between her thumb and forefinger. "He could be."

"He might be light too, he's yours just as much as his."

"He's not going to be as white as me. Not that blue."

Misty shrugged, pushing away her scowl as a dark cloud seemed to take over the Supreme. "Red would be nice," she suggested.

"Burgundy, maybe?"

"I'll go look."

Cordelia granted her a grateful smile, relaxing as she pressed the palm of her hand to the tightening skin around her stomach. She didn't care much about the color of her child as long as he was healthy, happy, for as long as he stayed with her, within her. She cared about Papa, she cared about what would happen to her baby when he took him. It bothered her to know that perhaps he would never wear the attire Misty was currently looking at a few feet away.

Her frown came back and she tried to ignore Misty's light hums of appreciation as she picked out matching socks, something the Supreme had to admit to herself she'd forgotten to even think about.

"Delia?"

The older blonde nodded, black eyes on the shelves, but she turned when the necromancer tugged on her sleeve insistently.

"I don't mean to take away from the kid or nothin', since we're shoppin' for him. But, I mean, don't ya yourself need clothes?"

"Clothes?" Cordelia echoed. "What do you mean?"

"You're showin' kinda hard, like, maternity clothes or somethin'." Misty's boot scuffed on the store's floor. "I don't know." She muttered.

"Showing-?" The Supreme glanced down at herself and she flushed. "I guess."

"Just a little."

Cordelia looked up and she mirrored Misty's teasing smile before she brushed her hand past her eyes. "God, I hadn't even thought about that. I don't really want to."

"But ya have to." The necromancer pulled Cordelia by her elbow deeper into the aisles. "Come on, I'm sure they have somethin' in black."

"Black'll make me slimmer?" Cordelia asked, light hope in her voice, and Misty couldn't help the laugh that escaped.

"I was thinkin' ya could keep the Coven's legacy goin', but yeah, slimmer works too." The wild blonde smiled. "See? Black. Oh, but they've got some nice whites too. Purple?"

"Misty, Misty please don't talk so loud."

The necromancer turned and sighed. "Cordelia, you're pregnant, it's obvious. Ya can't change that. Celebrate it, alright? Shop a little. Get an ice cream with me later."

"You're a stomach with legs."

"One who wants ya to have clothes that fit ya comfortably. I love the pants but they're probably too tight."

The Supreme nodded in admission, blushing shyly as the girl pushed her towards the shelves. She took a moment to pick out a few shirts quickly as Misty showed her a pair of black jeggings from across the way. She nodded quickly and took them from in between her fingers, and let herself be urged towards the changing rooms. Turning abruptly, Misty threatened to smack into her and she held the girl at bay with a hand against her chest.

"What about-"

"Yeah?"

"I mean," Cordelia shook her head, voice breaking in embarrassment. "I think I'm going to need, ah, bras."

The necromancer glanced down the woman's chest quickly and nodded. "I can go see what they have, if ya want."

"I don't exactly remember you usually wearing any and-"

Misty cut her off. "Doesn't mean I don't know how to shop for any." She paused to cock her head to the side. "How'd ya know I don't wear one?"

"I like black."

"Of course ya do. I'll be back, try these out okay? I'll keep an eye on the baby stuff."

Cordelia nodded and closed the changing room door behind her, listening for the necromancer's steps and sighing when they faded away. With her back against the wall, she looked through the things she'd haphazardly picked out and went to try them, pulling her own shirt off and folding it before placing it on the bench. She'd have some semblance of order in her life.

She'd barely tugged on the second sweater when Misty knocked on the door, calling her name softly, and she fixed the hem of her shirt before she opened it.

"Here, I took these since I didn't know how-" The necromancer waved vaguely at her. "-Much bigger you might get."

"Thank you," Cordelia murmured. She shifted her weight. "How do you feel about this sweater? I'm not really sure how I feel about it."

"I like it." Misty smiled. "A lot, the color suits ya, ya know? Like florals do."

"I'm not sure. I might put it back and just find something else later, I can wait another two weeks I think-"

Misty stepped closer and pressed her fingers to the woman's stomach, cutting her off with a knock of her forehead to the Supreme's reassuringly. "I like it," she repeated softly.

Cordelia breathed out and nodded, black eyes gazing into blue-green ones.

"Then I'll take it."

OOOoooOOO

They'd gone out shopping again once Cordelia's stomach began showing beneath the shirts, an inch or two at a time and with the Supreme tugging them down every few moments. The movements drove Misty crazy, even if the older blonde herself didn't realize she was doing it.

The Supreme woke still in her new blouse from the night before, opened to the third button to let her breathe, and she gazed to her side at Misty, the girl's wild blonde curls strewn over her shoulder and an arm thrown over her protruding stomach. They'd fallen asleep in front of a VHS tape, the television's blue screen now throwing lights across the dark room, hours away from the dawn.  
She nudged lightly at the necromancer until tired blue-green eyes stirred, and she smiled, leaning towards her to whisper in her ear.

"Misty, darling, you should go to your room."

"'m too tired to move."

"You can't stay."

Misty raised her head high enough to stare Cordelia down, eyebrows raised, before she lowered to the mattress again. "Make me, then. Just remember you're not supposed to exert yourself, baby and all."

"Misty," Cordelia sighed. She shifted down the headboard she'd fallen asleep against to face the girl properly. "Why are you so stubborn?"

"I'm stubborn when I'm sleepy. Just close your eyes and forget I'm here," Misty hummed back.

"I can't exactly do that when you snore."

The wild blonde sat up abruptly. "I don't!"

The Supreme closed her eyes, a satisfied smile taking over. "I got you up without exerting myself. That's new."

"Goddamn it," the necromancer breathed. She rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand. "Fine, I'll go."

"Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah." Misty stood, threatening to fall for a moment, and took a second to lean towards the Supreme to kiss her cheek. "Sleep good, alright? Ya won't be for the next few months."

"And thank you for that vote of confidence."

Misty waved at her, hiding a grin behind her hand as she yawned, and left through the room's far door, darkened from the night outside. Cordelia shook her head and reached for the remote to turn the television off. Cloaked in black, she turned to her side to make herself comfortable, staring at a square of light from the street lights outside before she began to doze off.

The floorboards creaked and she looked to the hallway, blinking rapidly.

"Misty?"

"Yeah, sorry."

Sighing, the Supreme turned her bedside lamp on and shifted back to gaze the girl down. "You're not helping." She narrowed her eyes. "What's with the pillow?"

"Oh." Misty blushed. "I'm stayin' the night."

"And...why?"

"You're 'bout ready to pop, ya know? I'm gonna be at your side 'til then. So ya don't freak out too much when ya do."

Cordelia's eyebrow raised. "Because you wouldn't?"

"Wouldn't what?"

"Freak out."

"Nah, I'm good."

The necromancer threw her pillow onto the side unoccupied by the Supreme and crawled over Cordelia to reach it, the older blonde keeping her balanced as she did so, a hand on her hip. The headmistress pushed her lightly, the necromancer laughing as she fell to her side.

Misty tugged the woman to her by her shirt, giggling when their noses bumped into each other's, and she pulled away to push Cordelia onto her side. "I got ya, ya can sleep easy. If ya wet the bed I'll wake ya."

The older blonde threw her a wry smile, but suddenly frowned. "Misty, I'm six months pregnant. I'm nowhere near ready to give birth."

The necromancer shrugged.

OOOoooOOO

Cordelia's foot tapped on the white wooden floors.

Coming out to tell Zoe and Queenie she was pregnant had been easy. Telling the Coven had been easy. Finally admitting to her council that the child she carried was Papa Legba's just as much as hers was something that made her want to punch herself in the gut. It'd be better than the slow torture of waiting for the girls to knock on her office door.

She turned in her chair, made a 360 that had her feeling nauseous, and she righted herself behind her desk again, head falling to the surface.

She was sure she'd made some kind of speech the night before, over and over and over again, but she'd fallen asleep and she'd forgotten them all. Every version. And Misty had been too worried herself to say anything.

The necromancer sat on a chair across from her now, playing with the tassels of her shawl, matching the rhythm that Cordelia had begun with her forehead against the cool wood. Misty had wanted to let her tell the girls herself, but Cordelia had downright begged for her to at least stay in the room, and she'd obliged, though begrudgingly. The older blonde's blood ran cold at the mention of Papa's name, she couldn't imagine what Misty went through, knowing he was responsible for the seven month long memory wipe.

There was a knock at the door and Cordelia straightened abruptly, wincing at the pain running down her back at the extra weight she carried, but Misty was already standing up and opening the door for her. She ushered Zoe and Queenie inside and let them take a seat at the desk, choosing to stand against the wall instead. A vulture over the scene.

"Are you alright? You're white as a sheet," Zoe asked, a frown already finding her way to her features. "Is the baby okay?"

"Yes, yes he's fine," Cordelia replied quickly. "Don't worry." She glanced at Misty. "I just have something to admit to you two."

"He's not an IVF baby, is he."

The Supreme watched Queenie carefully, mouth opening and closing as she fought for an answer. Exasparated, she settled with "How did you know?"

"You've been way too jumpy, too stressed. Don't get me wrong, you're usually stressed but this," Queenie's eyebrows raised. "This is ridiculous. Whose child is it?"

"Don't rush her!" Zoe admonished.

"No, I called you two in here to tell you." Cordelia wrung her fingers in her lap, hiding herself behind her desk. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "This has to stay in between the four of us, alright? I can't have the girls knowing."

"Oh god, you weren't-" Zoe's hand closed over her mouth. "Cordelia-!"

"No! No I'm fine, Zoe!"

"Let her talk, Zoe," Queenie sighed, giving her a sideways glance. "Miss Cordelia, whose child?"

"It's Papa Legba's."

The Coven's council turned in their seats to stare Misty down, the necromancer's blue-green eyes trained on the ground.

"He just like, placed it in her or somethin'. For bringin' me back."

"A trade?" Zoe breathed.

Misty shrugged, shying away from Cordelia's gaze.

"He, he visited me when I was about three months, told me that he'd placed this child inside me in return of a favor, I didn't know what he meant until two weeks later. I woke up and Misty was there and, and it made sense, I think. I'd wished for her to be avenged and he listened, and he took it a little too seriously. But I don't regret it." She added, more for the necromancer than for her council.

"That's crazy." Queenie scowled. "What a fucking dou-"

"Is this going to be an issue? Is the baby okay?" the youngest girl cut the voodoo doll off, alarmed.

Cordelia nodded. "The doctor says he's perfectly fine, there's nothing to worry about, alright? I just needed you two to know, just in case something I can't possibly conceive right now happens. You're my council and-" Her eyes met Misty's and she held her stare. "And you deserved to know. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."

"It's hard to let out," Queenie said. "We're just glad you did at all. We're here for you and him, you can count on that."

"Thank you," Cordelia sighed.

After hugging the two girls to her, the Supreme let them go, her black eyes on Misty as she closed her door behind their retreating figures. The necromancer had sat back down and was now ignoring her as best as possible, but her gaze kept shifting to her guiltily, a flush running across her chest.

"I thought you didn't want to help?"

"Ya were beatin' 'round the bush too much," Misty muttered. "But now it's done with. I thought ya _wanted_ me to help?"

"I'm glad you did," the Supreme admitted sheepishly. "That was draining."

"Emotionally?"

Cordelia nodded. "I'm exhausted." She watched Misty stand and cross to her and she accepted the embrace she was tugged into, letting out a groan of agreement when the necromancer suggested a nap in her ear.

The wild blonde suddenly gasped against her, and Cordelia pulled back, alarmed.

"What? What is it?"

"Delia!" The necromancer pulled her to her again. "He kicked!"

OOOoooOOO

"God, I'm starvin'."

Cordelia's eyebrows raised and she glanced sideways so she could look at Misty properly. The girl stared up at the ceiling from beside her on the bed, blue-green eyes wide as she chewed on her lip. The older blonde pushed away the smile tugging at her lips. "We just had dinner."

"Yeah but-" The necromancer turned to watch her, elbow supporting her head. "It's like, cravin's, I don't want pasta or rice or somethin'. I want chocolate. Or toffee."

"Oh my god, Misty Day," the Supreme giggled. "Are you having a sympathy pregnancy?"

The wild blonde scrunched her nose. "What?"

"It's when you experience stress and empathy along with the woman who's pregnant," Cordelia said. "You _have_ been complaining about back pains. And insomnia."

"Hey, that's because I'm afraid you'll give birth when I'm sleepin' or somethin'. I can't imagine wakin' up with a baby screamin' by my side."

The older blonde snorted. "Why do you think I don't sleep?"

Misty shook her head, pushing away the thought. "I'm still hungry though."

"It's midnight."

The necromancer let out a small groan before she fell back onto the bed, throwing an arm over her eyes.

"I just don't want you waking anyone up. Tomorrow's a school day."

"Are ya sayin' I'm noisy?"

"So noisy."

The younger blonde laughed lightly. "I guess I can't say no to that." She looked to the Supreme. "Ya sure I can't play no Fleetwood Mac still?"

Cordelia hummed. "The baby has ears now, I don't know if I want a second you in the mansion."

"Ya mean a third me."

The headmistress frowned. "Third?"

"Ya like 'em too." Misty grinned.

"Oh god, a Fleetwood MacFamily," Cordelia groaned. She pulled her pillow up from underneath her to hide into it, laughing dejectedly.

The necromancer pushed it aside softly, her smile light as she gazed down at the Supreme. "I like the sound of that."

The older blonde smiled back. "Me too."

Misty watched her for a long moment, leaning in, but she sobered quickly and pulled back. "Alright, bedtime. Tomorrow's a school day and you're stubborn and won't take a break. Ya need sleep. So does that kid." Cordelia let out a laugh but accepted the help when the necromancer sat her up to place the pillow back behind her. The wild blonde pulled the covers up to her chin and Cordelia gazed her over, black eyes full of mirth, as she leaned over to turn off the bedside lamp. She settled into her side, hand skirting quickly over her stomach, before placing her arm between them.

A small moment passed, darkness closing in on them.

"Misty?"

"Delia?"

The Supreme blushed and Misty could have sworn she saw her cheeks reddening. "I'm having cravings now."

The girl grinned and sat up on her knees, looking down at her. "What do ya feel like?"

"Try to stay quiet, alright Misty?" Cordelia begged. "But there's a pomegranate in the fridge."

OOOoooOOO

She watched over her students, the girls moving around her greenhouse as one, with a small smile on her face as she passed her hand over her stomach out of habit. She moved back at a soft call of 'excuse me' and one girl passed by her, holding a rather large bag of potting soil in her tiny arms, followed by two of her friends carrying trowels. They moved past other students, calling ahead and parting a way through carefully, quietly. They'd learned the Supreme's one rule easily.

Respect.

Respect of space, of each other, of the life that permeated in the plants and in the air and in the walls. Of themselves.

She sighed in the comfortable silence that moved through her kingdom, her girls speaking lowly as to not disturb their months of work. Plants could be so fickle when mistreated, yelled at. Like anyone, really. Mutual respect it was.

Her baby kicked inside her and she grimaced lightly at the pain, feeling like her liver (or was it her kidneys?) were about to be pushed out from where they should never be pushed out of, and she walked towards the nearest chair, placed there by Misty weeks before, just in case something like this happened, a sudden wave of pain or nausea.

She breathed out lightly, pursing her lips when the boy pushed again, and she nodded quickly when one of the youngest girls asked if she was alright, eyebrows together in worry. She began to turn away, but Cordelia pulled her back by her wrist.

"Honey, could you, could you go find Miss Day for me? She should be up in the living room, learning Latin with Miss Zoe."

"Or trying to," her student replied, smiling. "I'll be right back with her."

"Thank you."

It didn't take long for the necromancer to rush down the basement steps, the girl following her as best as she could, and the wild blonde paused inches away from the Supreme, winded, to take her hands in hers.

"What's up?" she asked, kneeling in front of her.

"Do you think you could take over? I'll have Zoe set up another class for you, I just need to rest."

"Ya got it." Misty nodded. "It ain't no problem." She stood and helped the Supreme to her feet, pushing her towards the student that had fetched her. "Have Miss Cordelia up in her room safe, alright?"

Cordelia wanted to fight, but another spasm had her breathless and she took the girl's hand in hers and the help she offered along with it. She knew Misty was watching her, most likely annoyed with her choice of teaching until she couldn't anymore, but the Supreme ignored her, and instead climbed, though slowly, up to her bedroom.

She fell asleep before the girl had descended the stairs back to the ground floor, and only woke when the side of the bed dipped down beneath the necromancer's weight, back from the basement and having let the herbology class go after it's allotted time.

Blue-green eyes watched her carefully, and the wild blonde pushed away her hair from her face. "Ya okay?"

"I'm fine, he's just causing a ruckus," Cordelia replied lightly. "Which is normal, before you ask."

"Yeah, I know, the doctor said so, but you're so close and all to givin' birth so, ya know." Misty shrugged. She scowled. "Ya gotta stop teachin'."

"I'm not having this conversation with you again, Misty," the Supreme said. "Don't even try."

"Ya gotta take care of yourself! The girls are fine with me and Zoe and Queenie, hell, I can ask Kyle to teach spells, he can read off of slides just fine, even if he doesn't have no magic bone in his body."

"And he will, once I've given birth and I'm _really_ unable to teach," Cordelia replied easily.

"And how long will that last?" Misty asked hotly. "Two weeks? Three? How long till you're walkin' 'round with a baby against your chest and back up in front of the girls?"

The Supreme began to blush heavily. "If he's sleeping, I don't see the problem."

"Dear god, you're obsessed," Misty groaned.

"I can't give up on my Coven, alright?" Cordelia tried.

"Ya takin' a break isn't givin' up on the damned Coven," the necromancer muttered. "And you'd better not be about to say what I think you'll say. Ya are not your mother. You're havin' a kid, you're not runnin' away to fuckin' Europe or somethin'."

"She ran away to-"

"I don't care!" Misty snapped her hand up, stopping her. "You're takin' at least a month off after he's born. At least. More if I can convince your stubborn head."

"You won't."

The wild blonde shook her head, softening as she sighed. "I know. Ya idiot."

Cordelia smiled and Misty fell beside her, giving up. She nudged into her neck with her chin.

"Ya drive me insane."

The Supreme glanced quickly at her, fingers tightening in her sheets, and she gave her a shaky smile before looking up at the ceiling again, breathing tightly.

"Misty?"

"Yeah."

"My water just broke."

OOOoooOOO

They'd rushed to the emergency room, with Zoe trying not to go over the speed limit for long periods of time, with Cordelia trying to ignore her half handled thoughts of '_please don't stain the leather seats we're almost there oh my god-"_. Misty crushed the Supreme's fingers between hers, whispering it'd be alright in her hair, but Cordelia only nodded back.

She didn't feel any pain.

She'd wetted her sheets, of course, but as the necromancer had ran for the duffel bag they'd prepared weeks before and as she yelled for Zoe, Cordelia just stared down at herself. Her breathing wasn't awkward, as she'd been told it would be. She could feel her muscles contracting, her baby pushing, but the pain was dull compared to what she'd seen, heard, expected. She tried to tell the necromancer, her brows together in confusion and worry, but Misty was more frazzled than she'd ever seen her, so she left it alone and instead followed the girl down to the car, pulled along carefully.

The hospital wasn't very far, and Zoe dropped the two of them off in front of the doors. Cordelia waited sagely in the waiting room as the necromancer pushed her way to the front desk, both their IDs already in hand.

Cordelia only half listened as she sat and gazed around, the lower half of her body completely numb even though she could still move and walk, but she heard the nurse ask the necromancer if her contractions were less than a minute apart, and she watched as Misty blushed deeply and admitted she hadn't checked.

The nurse appeared at her side and she looked up into her eyes, pleasantly dazed. "First child?" the woman asked, glancing sideways at Misty.

"Something like that," Cordelia replied. "I hate to be a burden, but they are under a minute apart. My contractions?"

"Already?"

"He's coming quickly, I think." _Though I couldn't explain why._

"Sometimes they do, sometimes they don't. We had a woman once who began her true labor barely three hours after her water broke, she was giving birth for a day after that." The nurse signed off quickly on her clipboard and took the Supreme's hand in hers. "Alright, let's go see the doctor."

Misty followed closely behind them, bag in her left hand. "A whole day? Won't that hurt?"

"Childbirth isn't painless, ma'am."

Cordelia opened her mouth to protest but she was pushed through a doorway, and she decided not to say anything. The nurse was too busy anyway. Misty came to help her up onto the hospital bed, but she pushed her away lightly.

"I'm not an invalid, Misty," the Supreme said gently.

The necromancer shrugged, her upper half trembling as she watched Cordelia with worry written in her muscles, and she went to hold her hand and kiss her cheek, lingering there as she pressed her fingers to the side of her waist.

"You're not going to cry, are you?" Cordelia asked curiously, turning to watch her.

"I'm fine."

"You look like you're going to pass out, are you sure you don't want to wait outside?"

Misty scowled. "And leave ya here by yourself? Fuck that." She ignored the nurse's sharp glance. "Aren't ya hurtin' or somethin'?" she begged softly. "Tell me I can help."

"We just got here, Misty," the Supreme said softly. "And no, I tried to tell you when we left the academy but you're like a raging bull when you're upset. I'm not hurting."

"At all?"

"At all. Actually, I feel great." Cordelia gave her a lopsided smile. "I want to wonder why but at this point, if it's not hurting-" She broke off and shrugged. "Go see Zoe and tell her to go home, alright? She doesn't need to stay, she'll only be allowed in the waiting room anyway."

Misty nodded softly. "Just don't give birth while I'm gone, alright?"

"She has labor to go through," the nurse put in from behind them. The necromancer glanced back at her, frowning,

"You won't be gone for very long, right? She's not at the other side of New Orleans. Go," Cordelia pushed her away from her side. "If you're worried, run."

The necromancer kissed her cheek again before rushing out of the room.

"She's a little battery, isn't she."

The Supreme turned to watch the nurse. "She is, yes."

"Does she ever die out?"

Cordelia's black eyes turned to the door. "She's always fought it off."

OOOoooOOO

As the necromancer had promised months before, she'd held Cordelia's hand through her birth, even if she'd barely had to push, barely had to think the boy through her body. The Supreme hadn't had to breathe or hold her lungs in or even cry out, her black gaze steeled on Misty's blue-green one the entire time.

It was awkwardly painless and it bothered her, even if everything was going according to plan. Misty'd cut the umbilical cord with shaky breaths as cries filled the room, ignoring Cordelia's worried grimace, and had finally collapsed into a chair afterwards, head between her hands as the nurses bustled around her, cleaning and cradling the newest breath of life inside the hospital.

Unresponsive.

When the older blonde looked back to her after taking her baby from the nurses and cooing at him, she found the girl staring, hand over her mouth as her knee moved up and down rapidly. Cordelia opened her mouth to ask but the necromancer shook her head, curls bouncing.

"It's weird seein' ya without your bump," Misty murmured, moving to prop her chin on the duvet.

Cordelia smiled, fingers finding the swamp witch's in the sheets, her other hand supporting the child at her breast. The boy suckled tightly, letting out tiny whimpers that the older blonde quieted down with kisses to his forehead, and she gave him a light smile before gazing at Misty. "It's weird for me too. But I'm not willing to try it again anytime soon."

The necromancer grinned, but sobered quickly. "I'm just glad he's healthy."

"Perfectly healthy," Cordelia replied.

"Zoe'll be here in the mornin', and Queenie in the afternoon," the wild blonde informed her. "But I sent pictures already, I hope ya don't mind. The whole Coven's seen him by now."

"As long as nothing's showing."

"You're fine."

Cordelia smiled gratefully, but her black eyes glanced sideways at the hospital room door and she tugged her boy closer to her. "Have they said anything?"

Misty cocked her head to the side. "They who? And about what?"

"The nurses. The doctor. About his, you know-" Cordelia lowered her voice. "Skin."

Misty's blue-green eyes slid to the black boy sleeping in the Supreme's arms. "No. And ya shouldn't worry anyways, it ain't none of their problem and if they've got somethin' to say, they can say it to me."

Cordelia shrugged lightly, a quip at the tip of her tongue, but she yawned suddenly instead, and she glanced at Misty, surprised. The necromancer smiled and stood from her chair to press a kiss to the woman's forehead, the palm of her hand skirting across the boy's back.

"Ya should sleep, alright? Ya both need it. I'll be around."

"Can you stay?"

Misty turned, eyeing her, a gleam in her gaze. "Ya want me to?"

"I'd like you to."

The girl made her way back to the bed and waited until Cordelia had shifted to the far side before climbing in. The older blonde let her head fall to the necromancer's shoulder, exhausted, even if the birth had been painless. Her muscles screamed in the aftermath.

"Ya did good, Delia. Real good," Misty whispered to her, tightening her hold on the Supreme. Cordelia hummed back as her black eyes closed.

The Supreme woke hours later, the room plunged in darkness, and she wasn't quite sure what had woken her until she realized the boy at her breast was no longer there, most likely removed by one of the nurses. She looked quickly to one side, finding Misty sleeping there, but on the other where the crib was waiting and where the child should have been,

It was empty.

She began to panic, a light noise torn out of her throat, and she struggled to raise without waking the girl beside her. The necromancer tightened her hold on her momentarily before letting go and turning around in the bed's tight fit, spine arching out towards the Supreme.

She fleetingly wondered if something had gone wrong with her baby, if he'd been taken to intensive care, but she figured someone would have woken her, and if not an official, the wild blonde. She'd asked for the child to be kept at her side, not to be put with the other children (she wasn't quite sure why she'd done that, either to protect him or the others) in the maternity ward. She was sure he was fine, there was no reason for him not to be, but the panic in her heart only settled deeper and she rose to a sitting position, body trembling and eyes beginning to tear up.

Cordelia stood shakily, taking a moment of half-heartened sanity to pull the covers back up Misty's body, and held onto her own waist as she made her way to the door, breathing erratically and feeling as if her insides had been torn out.

The rest of them, anyway.

Sudden shadows played inside the hospital room and she blinked, and suddenly hell red eyes stared her down from the corner.

Papa Legba stood with Cordelia's, and his, child in his arms, the boy's head at his shoulder and his long nails raking down his back soothingly. He smiled at the blonde and she couldn't help the goosebumps that ran up her arms, hair at the back of her neck standing at attention.

"Please give him back," she begged silently.

He laughed at her first words, the disbelief in her voice, and he shook his head slowly as his grin widened. "Him? Is that to be his official title? Give me his name."

"We-" Cordelia breathed in. "I haven't picked one yet."

The demon _tsk_ed lightly, almost as if he was annoyed. "He needs a name."

"Maybe you have an idea?" she replied forcefully. She regretted her action for only a moment, because soon the man was laughing again, ignoring her outburst.

"I'm sure my girl there had an idea?"

Cordelia bristled lightly at his possession of Misty. "We didn't talk about it."

"No, no she had a name. She was scared to mention it, it was too close to me, the connection too real," he said, smiling. "She was ashamed." The Supreme glanced back over her shoulder at the girl. She didn't shift.

It seemed that neither the necromancer nor the child could hear the loa's rumbling voice, she slept on and so did he. It personally reminded her of thunder and she so desperately wanted to close her eyes, but the boy in his grip prevented her from doing so. She held her arms out for him but Papa ignored her again.

"You will do well to raise him right. I'm sure I can trust you with him."

"You didn't tell me I'd keep him-!"

"And now you know that you will," Papa replied easily. "I will be back for him, someday. I would like him to be perfect."

"And when will that be, exactly?" she asked, fingers shaking again.

"Oh, that isn't an easy answer to give. Not a temporal one." He wagged his forefinger at her. "When he is ready to cross through the netherworlds at will, I will take him." He gave the boy's forehead a kiss. "Janjak," he breathed, voice smooth, like water over jagged rocks. "It's a good name. Have your hand stay still when you write it on the certificate."

"And who do I write in as the father?"

Papa Legba looked up, amused. "A ghost."


	3. Chapter 3

**Headcanoned with and beta-ed by graceonce**

**_I like to keep my issues drawn  
It's always darkest before the dawn_**

"No, no I got 'im."

Annoyed, Cordelia tightened her hold on the baby carrier. "Misty, I can hold him just fine."

"No, you're exhausted. Zoe's got the car parked over here somewhere, I'll strap the kid in and have her pull up. Can ya stay by yourself?"

"I can _walk_ by myself, too," the Supreme enunciated. She pushed past the girl, throwing her a light scowl, and headed for the back of the parking lot. Misty began to follow her as she whined lightly, but Cordelia ignored her. "I'm big enough to take care of myself, I told you I feel fine, and," She turned and Misty stood flush to her, surprised, as she brought her free hand up to cup her face. "It's been three days, I had definite time to get my strength back up."

"Please let me hold him," Misty begged quietly. Cordelia softened, watching her, and finally sighed, passing the sleeping child in his carrier to the girl. The wild blonde kissed the palm of her hand quickly before taking her arm in hers and walking, albeit slowly, to the car.

Zoe hugged Cordelia gingerly and took a moment to gush over Janjak as he woke, jostled by the sudden change in light and wind and atmosphere. He gazed up at the three of them from where he lay, eyebrows together and mouth open in question, but nothing came from him, and he turned away to look elsewhere.

The youngest blonde glanced sideways at Cordelia and offered her a light smile. "He's quiet, at least."

"Hopefully he will be at night, too."

Cordelia regretted her words now, hours later, as she stared Janjak down, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked into his crib and chewed on her lower lip. He stared back. She paced around lightly before planting herself in front of him again.

She'd been standing for close to an hour, watching him, waiting for him to finally cry to be changed, or to be fed, but it was as if he were mute. And she knew he wasn't, he'd wailed when he'd left her. Though, if she was being honest with herself, he hadn't cried for long. Surely the doctors would have said if something were wrong with his vocal chords, or his responses. His reflexes.

She turned lightly as Misty wrapped her arms around her waist, propping her chin on her shoulder. The girl's voice was tired, her eyes closed as she mumbled into the Supreme's neck.

"It's three in the mornin', what are ya doin' starin' at Janjak."

"He's not crying, Misty."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"He hasn't cried since he came home, since he's been born." Cordelia glanced at the necromancer. "That's not normal."

"Maybe he's just a real quiet baby?" Misty offered. "Darlin', you're shakin' from exhaustion. I'll stay up and change him if need be, and wake ya if he's hungry, alright?"

"You're not even supposed to be in here, Misty," Cordelia sighed. "I can take care of my own child." She pulled the girl's arms away from her body. "I can."

"I know ya can." The necromancer moved to her side and reached down to pass her hand over Janjak's forehead. He pushed at her hand with a tiny fist and she smiled. "Hey, baby."

"I'm going to feed him," Cordelia decided abruptly.

Misty looked up at her. "Alright." She picked Janjak up, cooing into his ear, and followed Cordelia to the bed. The Supreme sat on the edge and she took him from the girl, pulling her blouse open until Janjak fit easily against her chest and until he'd attached to her breast.

"He's hungry." Cordelia closed her eyes, wincing lightly in confusion. "Why wouldn't he cry?"

The necromancer grimaced. "I don't know, Delia, this is my first kid too, ya know?" She kneeled in front of the Supreme, gazing over Janjak. "I'll stop by the doctor's tomorrow and ask, Queenie's headed that way in the afternoon. If need be I'll take him the day after."

"I don't want anything to be wrong with him."

"I'm sure he's alright. He might just be a quiet kid, it happens, don't it?" Misty tried. "He's fine." She watched the Supreme rub at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'll put him to bed, okay? I'll leave for tonight but I'll be in the next room and ya just call if ya need to."

"Misty, just stay."

"Are ya sure? I don't mind leavin' if ya want me to. It's no biggie."

Cordelia smiled lightly. "Just stay."

OOOoooOOO

"No, no baby please don't cry, it's okay-" Cordelia picked Janjak up from his carrier on her study's couch, forgetting the paperwork on her desk, and she bounced the two month old carefully around the room. She paced around the floor, pressing kisses to the side of his head, though her black gaze was trained on her computer, where she'd opened the Excel document where she kept her finances in order. She stepped over and pressed a few keys, but pulled back once Janjak started his cries up again.

"Sorry, sorry baby I just have to finish this, I'm sorry," she hummed. "I know, I'm stressed too." He paused after a hiccup and nudged farther into her embrace.

At least he was crying.

It'd been a stressful first week with him at the academy, he'd stared and he'd gurgled and he'd guzzled but he'd never said anything. The pediatrician had looked him over and said nothing was wrong, as puzzled as he'd been as well.

It was when Cordelia had broken down that weekend, crying into Misty's shoulder and sobbing uncontrollably, that Janjak had begun his wailing too.

She sat down behind her desk and set him down on the surface, taking a moment to fix his shirt before taking him in her arms again.

Misty was in in a flurry of layers and noisy bangles, and she paused, seeing the Supreme wipe at Janjak's cheeks.

"Tissue?" she offered, finding one inside her pockets.

"Thanks," Cordelia sighed. She took it and wiped at the boy's nose. "I think he's as upset as me about these bank accounts. What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothin'. I just wanted to let ya know the daffodils are out." Misty smiled. "It's spring, Delia."

The Supreme nodded, but she didn't grin back like she knew the necromancer expected.

"Hey, what's with the frownin'?"

"I'm just wondering, you know, thinking. Too hard, maybe," Cordelia admitted.

"Anythin' specific?"

"Just about Janjak."

Misty nodded slowly, and the Supreme looked away, immediately feeling horrible. Every time she said the boy's name, the girl bristled lightly.

And she had reason to.

When the birth certificate had been brought to her the second time the next morning, she'd had found a name to sign in black ink. Janjak. The necromancer had watched her sign in swirled loops, leaving the father's line blank, but she hadn't asked the Supreme where or when she'd heard her say the name. Misty was pretty sure she'd never suggested it, Cordelia could hear her thoughts too easily.

She hadn't told Misty of Papa's visit the night before.

"I can take him from ya, if ya want, just for a few hours."

"You already did yesterday, it's fine, Misty." Cordelia shook her head. "He is mine, after all."

"Yeah well, ya know what I think about that," the wild blonde muttered.

"Yes, I do, thank you," the Supreme replied, voice a little more forceful than she'd meant it to be. She reached for Janjak when he began to cry again.

Misty held her hands up and took a step back. "Sorry, I'm sorry. I just care."

"I know." Cordelia hung her head in shame. She cocked her head to the side and gave the wild blonde a soft smile, all but grimaced out. "I'm sorry too. I'm just-"

"High strung? I noticed."

The two shared an awkward laugh, Misty still smiling when Cordelia looked down at the child against her chest.

"He looks exactly like him," Cordelia finally said, biting on her lower lip. She fought the tears prickling at the back of her eyes as Janjak began whimpering.

"He does, but for one thing," Misty murmured. "He's got your eyes."

OOOoooOOO

"It's obvious I had a child."

The necromancer looked up from her the book in her lap and raised an eyebrow as she closed the cover over her thumb, and she shifted in the Supreme's bedroom's armchair to tuck her feet beneath her. "And?"

"And look at me."

"I am, what's the problem?"

Cordelia's black eyes met the wild blonde's in the tall mirror and she rested her weight on one leg, pulling her sweater a little farther up her chest to show her stomach a little more. "Are you teasing me?"

"No, I really don't get what ya mean," Misty replied. She propped her elbows onto her thighs and cocked her head to the side as the Supreme sighed lightly and pointed at her stomach. She poked it delicately. The necromancer let out a little grunt. "Well, yeah, your tummy ain't as flat as before but you did have a child, Cordelia. And ya still look real good, so what's the problem?"

"Was that an after-thought?" Cordelia teased. "That compliment there?"

Misty scowled as she stood up, throwing the book where she'd sat, and crossed to the mirror to stand by the Supreme, watching her reflection. "Ya don't need no flat tummy to be beautiful, Delia."

"I'm sure you've said that to all the moms you've met."

"Only the ones with your name."

The older blonde grimaced at her in the reflection but after a moment, broke into a smile, her flush matching Misty's.

She sobered quickly.

"I'm sure if Madison were here she'd say something about a loose puss-."

"Delia-!"

"Alright, sorry," the Supreme grouched back, shrugging her shoulders heavily. "She would have. I just don't feel very sexy," Cordelia sighed. "Not, not even sexy, just-" She took in a light breath. "Desirable. Pretty. I don't know." She pulled her shirt down over her chest.

"You're plenty nice, Miss Delia. Them too."

The Supreme turned, grinning at Misty, and the necromancer looked away, a blush running up her neck. "Sorry." Cordelia leaned over and Misty instinctively did too, taking the cheek kiss the older blonde offered her.

From his play-pen, Janjak, five months old and sitting up in between large dog plushes, let out a happy gurgle.

"I think he finds them nice too." Misty winked easily at Cordelia before going over to see him. Unsettling black eyes watched her and she took a moment before reaching in to pick him up.

"He would, I feed him," Cordelia replied. "He's bound to be biased." Misty hummed back as she twirled carefully around the floor, playing with Janjak. She took a moment to bend down to pick his favorite toy up, and held it to his hands.

"Ya wanna dance with him too? Yeah?"

"My last name has always been ironic," the Supreme suddenly blurted. Misty stopped, her smile still spread on her face, and she looked into the woman's reflection in the mirror.

Breathlessly, she reaffirmed her grip on Janjak. "Delia?"

Cordelia turned to look at Misty properly, her eyes somewhat lost in their own darkness. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking-I don't know. My last name?" She shrugged helplessly.

"Yeah, Cordelia Goode," the necromancer said. She pressed a kiss to Janjak's nose. "And Janjak Goode."

"But are we? Have we ever been?"

"Do ya get existential often when ya talk about your breasts?" Seeing Cordelia's dejected look, Misty sighed. "Ya know ya are, darlin'. How many times will I have to say ya aren't your ma? Or your pa?" The Supreme scrunched her nose at the mention of her father, her missing father, and she turned back to the mirror, eyeing Misty in it. "Honestly, a name is a name is a name." She nudged the boy's nose with her own. "A rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet. So Cordelia would, were she not Cordelia called, retain that dear perfection which she owes without that title."

"I don't think Shakespeare is ever a good example for anything." Cordelia looked away, chest flushing in light anger.

"I'm just sayin'."

"He might turn out horrible-"

"And he might not."

"And I still might. It's been a year and a half since I ascended to the Supremacy and what have I done to show it?" Cordelia asked, pulling her heels on angrily. "I let a woman die, I didn't help you, I didn't even try. All I'm doing is growing plants downstairs and cowering still."

"Delia-"

"I can't even take care of my own child, you're always around to take him when he gets to be too much for me to handle, what kind of mother am I? What kind of Supreme? I'm supposed to _take care of children_!"

Misty shifted her weight, glancing quickly at Janjak as he began to cry. She shushed him as best as she could. "Cordelia, it ain't none of that."

"What the hell do _you_ know?"

The necromancer's brows furrowed and she took a step forward. "Don't ya dare and even _try_ to bring my parents into this."

"Why shouldn't I? What do you know about raising a child?"

"No more than ya, Cordelia, but I know what not to do. As do ya. So don't give me any of that-" She glanced quickly at Janjak, his mouth still open in wails. "Don't give me any of that."

Cordelia sighed, annoyed, and held her arms out. "Give him here."

"Not until you calm down, Delia, you're bein' hysterical." Misty frowned. "Ya know the doctor said ya might experience mild depression after birth-"

"You're saying I'm depressed? Give him to me!"

"No, I'm sayin' you're not completely right, that you're emotional. And that that's normal. Especially in this situation. Sit."

The Supreme whined suddenly, almost close to stomping her foot, and she took a seat on the edge of her bed. And her head fell into her hands and she began to cry. Misty watched her sadly, and went to put Janjak, now in the after stages of his crisis, back in his play pen before she made her way to the Supreme's side.

Cordelia buried into her neck when she turned to face her, warm tears dotting her and the necromancer's shirts.

"Hey, it's okay, it's overwhelmin' and stuff, I got ya," Misty murmured to her. She pulled her hair away from the woman's face. "You're not alone, and ya can bet your ass I, nor the girls, will let ya do anythin' but your most amazin' with him. Ya know how to raise him. You're a Goode and you'll stand up to your name."

OOOoooOOO

Queenie watched Janjak titter around the living room, a large smile on her face as Zoe nudged into her side and pointed at him in both wonder and appreciation. Misty watched from the corner, biting back a grin as the boy made his way to her on two strong legs.

Cordelia had been surprised to find her eight month old standing in his crib the day before. He'd stared back and she'd spent a good minute just looking him over, pleasantly confused, before picking him up and setting him down on the floor. And he'd taken off.

Misty matched his giggles as she picked him up and propped him onto her knee. "Ain't it amazin'? Cordelia was right surprised, he wasn't supposed to be walkin' for another month. Says the average, anyway. Guess he's outta average, huh Janjak?"

Zoe nodded quickly. "I wouldn't expect anything else out of him, honestly."

"He's going to be a handful, walking around like that," Queenie laughed.

"He's a right little rabbit. I want to get him those light up sneakers, it'll be too funny." Misty grinned back.

"The Lighting McQueen ones!" Zoe giggled.

Janjak opened his mouth and let out little noises as he jumped on Misty's lap, pointing at the door, and a moment later Cordelia crossed through. She grinned at him and picked him up.

"Hi, baby! Missed me?"

"You know he did," Zoe replied.

Cordelia smiled at her. "Unfortunately, it is bedtime for him, so I'm going to have to take your little toy away for the night."

The council members both kissed him on the cheek, smiling when he did, and Misty followed Cordelia upstairs, a hand to her lower back. When the Supreme had changed and prepared him for bed, she'd let him into his crib and had let Misty read him a story, something about swamp animals that had him giggling when she imitated them.

He wasn't asleep a half an hour later but he was laid down and quiet, and Cordelia found herself already on her mattress, the necromancer tucked into her side. They ignored that the sun hadn't fallen past the horizon yet.

"I think I'll take him out tomorrow, to the park or somethin'," Misty breathed out, her eyes closing as she pressed back into her pillow. "Try to see if he's any good at kickin' a ball. I think Queenie's got a soccer ball hangin' around somewhere."

The Supreme turned to her. "He's just started walking."

"Don't mean he can't kick. And if he falls, it'll teach him balance," Misty joked.

Cordelia's black eyes suddenly narrowed. "Why?"

"Why what?" The wild blonde frowned. "Why not? He's young, yeah, but he needs to have some fun, ya know?"

"Are you saying I'm not fun?"

"Delia, I ain't." Misty sat up. "Ya know I ain't, come on-"

"You're _not_ his father, Misty!" Cordelia suddenly snapped. Janjak whimpered and began to howl and she stood to fetch him.

Taken aback, the necromancer blinked as she followed her with her gaze, confused. "I know that."

"And you're not his mother either, I am. So stop acting like you are or like you know how to take care of his growth."

"I mean, I've been to the doctor's appointments and stuff, I know how it works, I read the pamphlets too. I know how to use Google," Misty said softly. She offered the Supreme a light smile, trying to diffuse her sudden anger, but the woman ignored her.

"You didn't give birth to him, Misty. You were merely there, merely listening when you didn't have to. What if you didn't? What if you missed something important?"

"Did they say anythin' about not lettin' him out to play ball?" Misty asked.

"You don't know anything."

With a snarl, Misty suddenly stood. "Well that's fine then," she snapped. "Put him to sleep yourself, _your_ fuckin' child is cryin', not mine." She grabbed her pillow.

"Where are you going?" Cordelia demanded, her grip tightening on Janjak.

"Back to my room, where I'm supposed to be," Misty replied harshly. "I'm not his father, I can't exactly take the place in the bed either, can I? And shut that kid up, honestly, he's gonna wake everyone up if he keeps goin' like that."

"Fine!"

The necromancer threw her a glare before slamming the door behind her.

OOOoooOOO

Cordelia had wanted to beg Misty for help when Janjak found out how to escape his wooden prison at night, but it was a month later and the dark clouds that had come over the academy hadn't left.

The Supreme and the necromancer talked, but it was in quick bursts, minutes at most. Misty could barely stand being around her for too long, and Cordelia had no want to be anywhere near her, not when they started bickering and when they started yelling at each other from across a room.

No, Cordelia only saw her twice, or three, times a day, to hand over Janjak when she needed to, or to take him back before the sun fell.

But now the toddler was nine months old and tittering around at midnight, sometimes so silent that she didn't hear him leave the room, no matter how lightly she slept, and she half wondered if his father had anything to do with it. Half wondered if asking the wild blonde for anything close to help would be fruitous.

She stared him down, black eyes against black eyes, in the permeable darkness. Waiting for him to try and leave again, waiting to see him climb the bars of his playpen.

There was no reason to put him in his crib anymore, not when it was feet above the floor. The playpen was safer.

Anger flared through her as she thought of what Misty would say if she sat by her, watching him with her. She pushed the thought away as she closed her eyes to breathe deeply, willing her heart to calm. And something shifted in the night.

She gazed curiously to her side and there was Janjak, slipped out of his pen and walking from her dresser to her bed and back, as if searching for something, and she sighed. But she didn't go to pick him up. He always slept better when he'd had his midnight walk.

"Baby, what are you doing?" She asked softly. "What are you looking for?" He glanced sideways at her, black gaze momentarily red in the streetlights' soft glow, and he wobbled past her, pulling the cracked door open with his little hands. Cordelia passed her fingers through her hair shakily and stood to follow him, folding her arms over her chest.

She figured she wasn't the model of parenting perfection.

His steps were slow, small, almost calculated, and she hovered above him, though she didn't reach for him, didn't offer a helping hand as he placed his own against the wall to brace himself. He walked the length of the hallway, pausing at every door almost as if to listen inside the closed sections as he scowled. It was as if he were annoyed that he had no access to the rooms.

He glanced back at her as she followed, almost challenging her to pick him up, but she just raised her eyebrows and seemingly satisfied (or as satisfed as a nine month old could be, she figured), he continued his walk.  
She wondered how intelligent he was in that head of his, but she was too scared to answer herself.

"No, not in there."

Janjak looked to her, his fingers resting against the door to Queenie's and Misty's room. "M-mmmmi-"

"Yes, but no."

He grimaced and she could feel the onslaught of tears suddenly coming, so she nudged him with her knee lightly.

"There's lots to keep exploring, Janjak," she said softly. He let out another whimper but continued his walk after a moment, headed down the white wooden floors. She ignored the sound of a door closing behind her and Janjak, feeling a blue-green gaze finally leaving her back.

It was when he reached the attic's trapdoor, looking up at it with wide eyes, that she finally picked him up. He wriggled awkwardly in her arms, but she kept her grip tight on him. "No, Janjak, not up there. No one goes up there."

She had, a long time ago, and found bodies she had not wanted to find.

She felt a wave of goosebumps run down her spine and she began to walk away, ignoring the boy's soft cries as he grappled with closed fists to go back.

"I can't wait until you're tall enough to open things," she mumbled into his ear. "That'll be a fun time, yeah?" She set him down in the side hallway, her back to the stairs, and he began to amble to yet another room. She wondered briefly where Kyle was, if he too walked the academy late at night, but she heard nothing but small steps with her ears perked. She didn't exactly want to have to explain anything.

She leaned heavily on the wall, closing her eyes for but a moment as she passed the heel of her hand against her forehead, but when she opened them, Janjak was gone. And she began to panic.

She glanced around quickly, doing a circle on herself as she called out his name, voice hoarse. She walked past the bannister, gaze jumping from bar to bar and hoping she wouldn't see him hanging there, and she finally breathed out tightly, rushing to pick him up from where he sat on the stair's landing.

"No, honey, no, you don't leave without me, remember?"

He shifted against her, and she sighed. She sat down on the stairs, holding him in her lap and with her feet on a lower step. He began to fall asleep a moment later, breathing evening out, but she didn't move, letting him doze off against her and not in his bed, her gaze on the windows.

OOOoooOOO

"Janjak's been very upset lately," Zoe tried. "Is he alright?"

"He's fine. Just teething," Cordelia lied. She turned away to hide her scowl from the girl, instead busying herself with her file cabinet.

The younger blonde grimaced lightly behind her, crossing her arms over her chest as she shifted her weight. "He walks around, still."

The Supreme looked up at that. "Still?"

"Kyle had to bring him back to your room last night. He said you were out like a light," Zoe said quietly.

"I guess I didn't hear him. He's silent, you know?"

"Not when he's upset."

Cordelia slammed the cabinet shut and turned to her desk, taking a moment to sit behind it. "I know, thank you. He's a baby. He cries."

Zoe shook her head and took a deep breath before continuing, her gaze on the floor. "Cordelia, I'm worried. You could barely sleep properly a few months ago and now you just let it go. What if he falls? Hurts himself?"

"Kyle had to fetch him once, it's not an issue. And if it is, tell him I'll stay up. I don't want to have to lock my door at night," the Supreme said. She reached for her cup of tea.

"Where is he now, Cordelia?" Zoe asked curiously.

"With Misty."

"That's another thing I wanted to talk to you about," the girl admitted softly. "What's wrong? You've been so uncomfortable around each other lately, it's been noticed. By everyone."

Cordelia glanced sharply at her. "Does anybody have any privacy anymore?"

"When you're yelling across the house, it's hard to ignore."

The older blonde looked away and suddenly her black eyes were filling with tears. She hastily wiped at them and her voice shook as she spoke. "I don't know what happened, Zoe. One minute everything was fine, and then I lost my temper and then she lost hers. And we'll be fine for about ten minutes and then everything goes wrong again. I'll say something I shouldn't or she will and it turns to shit. I just want it back to like it was before," she said. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry about my attitude these last weeks, today. I'm at the end of my rope. I just don't know what to do."

"You just have to ask for some slack, and you'll get that rope," Zoe reminded her. She reached forward and took the Supreme's hand in hers. "You have tried to talk to her, right?"

"I tried, but then it just-" Cordelia waved vaguely, movements stiff. "And she tries too. And it's just bad. So bad."

"And you have no idea why?"

"Nothing set it off!" the Supreme cried. "It just started one day! I told her she-" She brought her hand to her mouth and stifled a sob. "I was horrible, Zoe. I was horrible."

"You know, and I've said this before so I'm probably boring you," Zoe said, giving her a small smile. "It's stress, Cordelia."

Cordelia nodded quickly, fingers shaking in the girl's grip. "I know. I know, I know."

The hazel eyed blonde watched her carefully for a moment before speaking again. "You know, Queenie and I are taking the girls out to that art museum that's opened downtown, sometime this weekend. We'll take Janjak with us and you just take a day off with Misty. How does that sound?"

Cordelia pulled away to wipe at her nose with the end of her sleeve. "I don't want you to feel like you have to do this."

"It'd be my pleasure, and Queenie's too, you know that. And you know how Kyle loves Janjak."

The Supreme nodded, gaze in her lap as she played with the edges of her skirt. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Rent a movie, get some popcorn. Just sit and spend some time together. You need it."

OOOoooOOO

Cordelia'd fallen asleep against Misty's shoulder, lips parted and so close to snoring, and when she'd woken she'd pulled away quickly, eyes blurry as she'd glanced sideways at the necromancer, blushing madly. But the wild blonde was sleeping too, tucked into the couch's armrest and with her arm now limp at her side, previously around the Supreme.

They'd been watching random television, background noise as they'd talked like they used to. Cordelia hadn't tried to bring up the past months, and Misty had been content with just grinning at her and sharing the moments the older blonde hadn't seen, or heard about. It had been hard for Cordelia to fight her oncoming tears, her throat felt as if it had been closing, and Misty had understood quickly enough, too shy herself to bring up their attitudes either.

After Cordelia had lightly reprimanded her for her choice of food and the necromancer had missed the goldfish crackers she'd thrown into the air and tried to catch, she'd been pulled to Misty's side, the two of them giggling against each other as Misty begged her to catch some herself, pelting her with the cheesy snacks.

Misty'd breathed out, huffing out as she smiled widely, and pressed a kiss to Cordelia's temple before laying back against the side of the couch. And the Supreme had followed her down, curling up against her, her chest. She'd blinked and the television had turned off.

But now she was awake and the necromancer was waking too, and she passed her hand through her hair quickly, trying to tame it. But seeing Misty's own wild hair, she gave up with a sheepish smile that the girl gave back easily as she yawned.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Misty replied, testing her jaw. "Neck's sore but that's normal. Ya okay?" She asked, frowning lightly. She sat up, one thigh over Cordelia's and the other behind her back, and took her in her arms. "Ya were comfortable, right?"

"Turns out you make a great pillow." Cordelia smiled. Misty nudged her forehead with her chin and the Supreme tucked into her neck, sighing. "They'll be home soon."

"I'm thinkin' sleepin' our time away wasn't a good idea."

"I missed it." The Supreme pulled away to look into blue-green eyes. "I miss you."

The necromancer smiled sadly and leaned forward to run her nose against the woman's. "Me too."

The front door opened and they pulled apart, each letting out a sigh, Misty's harsher than Cordelia's, and she watched the Supreme make her way to the front hallway before following a moment later.

"Hey!" Queenie called. She pushed past the girls standing near the door as they pulled off their shoes.

"Hi, how was it?"

"Great, really informative. Though Lisa tried to touch the balloon exhibit." The voodoo doll threw a wry grin at one of the brunettes, who turned away quickly.

Kyle walked inside, Janjak gleefully sucking on his thumb as he played with the young man's hair, and Cordelia reached for him, already calling his name.

Misty reached for him too.

Cordelia gave her a questioning look, a painful look, and she pushed away the necromancer's hands. "I got him."

The wild blonde frowned. "I can do it, though."

"Misty!"

The necromancer looked her over, hurt and anger rising in her eyes. She opened her mouth to snap back but suddenly Zoe herself was taking Janjak from Kyle's arms, his dark eyes glancing quickly between both older blondes as he relinquished the child over to his girlfriend.

"It's okay, I'll put him to bed," she said quickly.

Cordelia forced a smile. "You had him all day already, just pass him here."

"He's tired, he doesn't need you squabbling over him, I got it, see? He's already falling asleep. I'll be quick." And with that, she was climbing the stairs. She paused on the landing to give Queenie a quick look before continuing on to the first floor.

"Delia, I-"

The Supreme threw the necromancer a well placed glare as Janjak's cries began from upstairs, and she followed the black widow.

OOOoooOOO

"We've had enough of this."

Cordelia looked up, eyes bleary as she shifted her gaze from the coffee in between her fingers to the two girls standing before her. Her council. She glanced quickly at Janjak, the boy whimpering, and she moved to lay back in her chair, a frown finding its way onto her face, and she waited.

"You're sitting in here crying," Queenie began again. "And she's sitting up there crying, and Janjak is howling and he's been inconsolable and Kyle can't deal with him anymore." She reached for the woman's laptop, pulling it away from her as she grasped for it, and stared at a blank screen. "You call this work?"

"I just-"

"No, Cordelia," the young woman replied forcefully. "You sit back and you listen."

Cordelia glanced between the two of them, desperation in her eyes. "Listen to what?"

"Don't you get it?" Zoe blurted suddenly, exasperated. "It's so obvious! And it took us so long to figure it out and it's horrible but it works out-!"

"Take a breath, Zoe-"

"No, Miss Cordelia." She planted herself in front of the woman, leaning forward to stare her down. "Every time you get angry, or upset, Janjak cries. Every time anybody does! He's been in a colic since your fight with Misty, you have to make up with her if you want it to stop."

"That's ridiculous," Cordelia snapped back. "He's an infant, he has no way of controlling anything, much less emotions and-" She tried to keep talking, but an ear piercing wail had her turning her head to look at Janjak, surprised.

"Miss Cordelia, think this through," Queenie snapped. "There's a very high chance he's causing all the anger, he's a demon's child. It's in his aura, his destiny. He's a child of chaos. He pushes anger into you, and you throw it back out."

"You have to tone yourself down, control your sentiments down around him," Zoe added.

"Why doesn't this happen to you then?" Cordelia demanded.

"He's your child," Queenie replied. "Papa's pretty twisted, remember? It's his way of fucking with you, and Misty, who he let go. He wouldn't leave you alone so easily."

The Supreme scowled. "I don't think _either_ of you have any right to say anything about-"

"Cordelia!"

The oldest blonde glanced at Zoe, suddenly blushing.

"He's basically screaming his lungs out, why is it so hard for you to understand? He angers you, that's his powers, he angers you and you get angry and then it hurts him, all that emotion. He can't control his outbursts or his intake. He's hurting _himself_ because you're _letting_ him."

"I don't see how any of this could be true," Cordelia pleaded.

"It's too obvious, you've just been so busy with everything else, your emotions and the girls and Janjak."

The Supreme bit her lip, and she stood to fetch her child, hugging him to her chest tightly. "What do I do?"

"You learn to control yourself. And he'll learn to control himself," Queenie said.

OOOoooOOO

Misty looked Cordelia up and down as she passed her hand through her unruly curls, words dying at her lips, and the Supreme stared back, somewhat lost. She was bent slightly over, arms stretched out as she held Janjak's fists in hers, the boy looking up at the necromancer with wide eyes as he stood shakily.

"Hi," the necromancer murmured. Cordelia nodded and looked away, blushing in the midnight darkness. "I was just, uh, headin' to the bathroom."

"Okay, sorry." The Supreme moved sideways to let her pass, tugging Janjak along with her, but Misty didn't move past her, watching her instead with an inquisitive blue-green gaze.

"Don't be."

Cordelia shrugged lightly and she bent down to pick Janjak up. He buried into her neck but kept his eyes trained on the wild blonde.

"How, how is he?"

"Good. A little tempestuous. But he takes that from Fiona, I think."

Misty smiled. "He would." She turned away, her grin turning into a scowl, and suddenly Cordelia was taking her hand in hers, pulling on her until Misty could do nothing but look back at her.

"Don't frown, okay? I was just joking, I-" The Supreme shook her head. "Don't get upset."

"I ain't."

"Not now, anyway." Seeing the girl's dejected look, Cordelia smiled sheepishly. Misty softened lightly and she stepped closer until she could help her hold Janjak, fingers passing through his hair. "Would you, Misty would you like to stay with me tonight?"

"Queenie snores like a fuckin' truck," the necromancer said in guise of answer, and Cordelia smiled.

When she put Janjak back in his crib, he was sleeping already, his little heart beating against Cordelia's grip, and she watched him doze for a moment before crossing to her bed. She watched Misty flounder for a second, their eyes meeting over the duvet, and the necromancer finally slid under the covers.

Cordelia's shirt ran up as she got in too, but she reached for the hem self-consciously, pulling it back down. She looked up and Misty looked away, a flush running up her chest.

Cordelia suddenly sighed, a flash of anger coursing through her. She pushed it back down as she reached for the girl's fingers. "You should sleep."

"So should ya."

The Supreme nodded and the necromancer opened her arms, smiling softly when the older blonde turned into her side.

They awoke at dawn with Janjak screaming. Cordelia was out of bed like lightning and running for the crib as Misty fell to her side, alarmed.

"Delia?"

"Oh god oh god-"

"Delia!"

"He caught himself between the bars Misty-!"

The necromancer's eyes were wide as Cordelia turned, the front of her nightgown dotted with blood. Janjak had somehow undone a screw, gotten his forearm stuck between two pieces of wood and tried to tug himself out if its grip.

He'd scratched himself the entire way through, had soaked his own pajamas and his blankets.

"Misty, fill the si-"

The wild blonde hadn't waited for her to ask, and was already in her bathroom and running the tap, filling the sink to the brim and reaching for the soap, the rubbing alcohol. She wanted to put it back inside the medicine cabinet and she hesitated, unsure as to whether the boy would handle it. "Delia, maybe we should take him to the hospital," she tried as Cordelia pushed into her side, placing Janjak on the sink's edge.

"I can take care of it," Cordelia replied shakily. She reached for the bandages and Misty caught the roll before it fell, handing it to her and holding the boy for her as he squirmed and howled.

It took a good amount of time before she'd cleaned the scratches and gauzed his arm and hand. She bounced around with him, begging him to be alright as Misty watched, unable to do much.

"Cordelia we really should take him to the doctor's, he might need stitches or-"

"Misty, he's fine right here."

"What if he ain't? Ya can't douze him in alcohol, it'll hurt too much but he's gotta be cleaned properly. What if he hit a screw? He might need a shot-"

"Shut up!" Cordelia cried back.

"De-"

"I didn't ask for this child! Or the responsibility! I didn't want it!"

Misty gaped, her knuckles turning white as she balled her hands into fists. "What, ya think I wanted ya to have it? Ya think I wanted to come back to-to this? Everyone dead and ya and I fightin' and cryin' all the time? Do ya think I orchestrated this with Papa or somethin'?" she asked, voice rising. "I wanted life!"

"I didn't ask you to stay!"

"No, ya freakin' didn't, and I also didn't ask ya to get me outta there but here I am, and I'm just tryin' to help and you're pushin' me away and why do I stay? Why _do_ I stay!"

Cordelia opened her mouth to snap back but Misty cut her off. Janjak's sudden cries, his sudden howls, had the Supreme looking down at him but she quickly turned her attention back to the necromancer.

"I stay because I care, dammit! You're a fuckin' idiot, Delia Goode, it's not because ya never found love between your mother and your husband that ya can't at all. It's not because ya never had help that ya can't now! Ya have me and the girls and Janjak and you're blind if ya can't see that!"

"Don't you dare-"

"You're fuckin' blind, Delia! Willfully blind!" the necromancer yelled. "Again!"

Her head snapped back with the blow of Cordelia's backhand, and she tested her jaw carefully before looking up into the Supreme's black eyes, fingers to her mouth. The woman grasped at her with her free hand, her shawl, choking out _'I'm so sorry_'s between sobs, remorse in her shaking fingers and her watery gaze and Misty wrapped her arms around her neck, letting the Supreme cry into her shoulder as she spoke low into her ear, Janjak between them and pushing away her apologies.

She pulled her off, holding her jaw in her hands. "Don't be blind," she begged. "Don't be blind, Delia, please."

The older blonde nodded avidly before burying back in her neck, back heaving with sobs.

And Janjak quieted down.

OOOoooOOO

Misty walked with Janjak to her chest, his head in the crook of her neck as she spoke to him and bounced him lightly. She'd wiped the bright blue birthday cake from his face, but not well, and he was smearing the icing onto the necromancer's cheek. She brought the leftover to her mouth and smiled at the taste, blushing when she saw Cordelia watching her from a corner of the living room.

She walked over and nudged the woman's cheek with her forehead. "This was real nice, Delia."

The Supreme shook her head, hiding her smile as she reached for Janjak. The wild blonde relinquished him over easily and took the gift wrapping from Cordelia's free hand.

She looked over the wrap's pattern, frowning lightly at the grinning frogs staring back, but finally shrugged and balled it up before throwing it in a trash bag.

Janjak's first birthday had housed all the children in the neighborhood, the friends he'd made at the park, and to Misty's insistence, their pets. And the living room was a rather big mess. She moved past the Supreme and reached for an empty paper plate, giving Janjak a little smile.

He'd begged, without words of course, for a reptile themed party, bouncing in his cart seat as they passed the party aisle and when Cordelia pointed it out. The necromancer had harped that frogs weren't reptiles, had even grouched that she'd call the company to complain, but she'd just ended in the passenger seat with her arms crossed over her chest as Cordelia giggled and pulled out of the parking lot.

Misty paused, bent over to pick up another gift wrapping, and looked over the Supreme standing at the window and waving with Janjak at the last of the leaving guests in the street. She came up behind her and placed her chin on her shoulder, hugging her.

"Real nice," she hummed.

"You said so." Cordelia turned lightly to smile at her. "You liked, Janjak?" He gurgled and grinned and she kissed his cheek. Misty fought off the need to do the same and finally pulled away. The Supreme glanced sideways at her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, why?"

Cordelia shrugged. "I'm just checking." She nodded at the boy. "You know."

Misty smiled. "I'm great." She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "And thankful that we worked it out," she added softly.

"Me too."

The necromancer turned away and reached for one of the toddler's new toys, jiggling it and smiling when the bell inside it rung. "Who'd have thought a child would teach communication?"

"Communication?" Cordelia laughed. "I don't exactly think that's what he was teaching. What he is teaching."

Misty's eyebrows raised, and a long moment passed with the two of them grimacing before she finally giggled and pulled the Supreme to her. Janjak grasped for her and she took him, blowing a raspberry to the top of his chest as he laughed.

"Don't get spit all over him," the Supreme whined mockingly.

"I'll do what I want." The necromancer winked back.

"I know."

Blue-green eyes met a black gaze and Misty's smile slowly came in, and it took no time for Cordelia to mirror it.

OOOoooOOO

Cordelia looked up as her office door opened, but a bouquet of carefully picked pansies were suddenly in her field of vision. Purple and white and smelling sweet. She took a moment to admire them before overlooking them to train her black eyes on Misty, the girl shyly offering the bouquet to her over her desk.  
The Supreme took the flowers, giving the girl a pleasantly puzzled look, and she cocked her head to the side in question.

"Happy Mother's Day, Delia," Misty mumbled, blushing as she relinquished her hold on the pansies, picked from where her ashes lay, her body of a life prior, and nurtured until they sparked with their brightest potential colors.

The Supreme herself had forgotten the holiday that morning, too busy with running after a joyous Janjak and scolding her girls for catching their homework on fire. In any case, it hadn't quite occurred to her yet that the holiday was meant for her now, too. But Misty had fetched her breakfast before she'd woken, and had somehow managed to borrow Janjak long enough to have him decorate a mug that she'd then fixed the colors on properly. And then she'd disappeared.

And now she knew why.

Misty watched her carefully, biting the inside of her cheek. "Are ya, ya know, are ya happy?"

The older blonde looked up, surprised. "Happy?"

"Are ya?" Misty pressed. "I just want ya to be, after all the shit that's happened."

The Supreme softened and sighed. "Of course, Misty." She took a light breath."Life's been...insane these last few months, this last year. But even though I lost a lot, I gained just as much. You're here and I've got Janjak, as weirdly attached as I might be with him now. I've got my school. I've got you," she echoed. She scowled, suddenly self-conscious. "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Happy."

"Immensely."

"Oh, you scared me. I thought you were asking because-" Cordelia cut off abruptly and she blushed. "Nevermind."

"Nevermind what?" Misty asked, stepping to be flush with the desk.

"I'm just afraid you'll want to go, one day. I was afraid you would, after all that happened," the Supreme admitted shamefully.

"I don't want to go," Misty whispered. "I don't think I will."

Cordelia flushed and grinned, accepting the promise along with the stiff kiss to her cheek, the wild blonde bending down to her level. She went to straighten her back but the Supreme held her where she was by the tip of her chin and turned her head slightly until she could press her own light kiss to the girl's lips.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Misty's blush grew quickly, one hand's fingers grasping at thin air as the other tightened its hold on the desk, and she nodded violently as she floundered. She turned abruptly and marched to the door, and in after-thought, she turned to give Cordelia a dazzling grin, finding the Supreme already sporting one, fingers tight around her gift.

Cordelia hummed the song the girl had sung as she'd walked into her study, as she was walking out, inhaling the sweet smell that enveloped her. The pansies and the girl.

**-I might write an epilogue-**


	4. Chapter 4

**The last installment! **

**Headcanoned with and beta-ed by graceonce**

Cordelia arched her neck, head tipping back until the necromancer could press her lips to the base of her jaw and trace down her muscles with a dexterous tongue. The Supreme moaned, and it took her a long time to realize that the knocking noise wasn't her heart against her ribs, but a tiny fist against her and the girl's bedroom door. She let out a grunt that the necromancer mirrored, their fingers tightening around each other's, but she edged away.

She pushed Misty off carefully and the wild blonde groaned against her upturned lips as she sat up and tried to fight off her flush, the girl doing the same as she fell back against the pillows, breathing hard at the ceiling.

"You okay?" Cordelia asked softly.

Misty huffed. "Just let 'im in."

The older blonde pressed a quick kiss to the necromancer's forehead before flipping her hand out vaguely. Their door unlocked with a stunted click and swung open as Cordelia pulled away reluctantly.

The Supreme's five year old waltzed in, fingers to his mouth and arm tight around his favorite blanket. His hand fell to his side and he looked to Cordelia, brows lightly furrowed.

"Hey baby, what is it?" Cordelia went to sit on the edge of the bed and she opened her arms wide, beckoning him over as Janjak watched her from the door. He climbed into her lap and she pressed a kiss into his hair, her eyes closing as she smelled the scent that was so utterly him, baby oil and lavender. "Hmm, what is it?"

The boy shrugged as he brought his fingers up to massage the bridge of his nose. Cordelia sighed lightly and kept her lips to her boy's forehead, his skin warm. He'd had issues as an infant to cry but had quickly learned from his mother, copying her actions to perfect symmetry. Now she only wished he would talk.

There was nothing wrong with his vocal chords, or his speech comprehension. Enough pediatricians had prodded and examined him and has assured her that nothing was wrong with him, but she had a hard time believing he was willingly mute. He'd taken to sign language instead, little movements at first when younger, taking his hands to his mouth when hungry or pointing frantically when he needed something, but it was Misty who'd taken the initiative to teach him ASL properly at four years old. Cordelia, to her own shame, had been too anxious to even think of the idea.

Now he signed as fluently as any child his age spoke, but neither had ever heard the sound of his voice bar the occasional cry.

Misty sat up, her blush tamed now, and she gazed at him from over his mother's shoulder. "Did ya have breakfast?"

He giggled lightly as he nodded. **Of course mama, it's past eleven.**

The necromancer wriggled her nose and leaned back into her pillows.

"Of course, Mist," Cordelia echoed, glancing back at her. "It's past eleven." She ignored the mockingly scathing look the wild blonde gave her, noting instead the fists tight around the bedsheets.

Janjak reached up and turned the Supreme's attention back to him. **Can I sleep with you?**

"It's almost noon, you said it yourself, you can't go back to sleep now," Cordelia chastised lightly. "You won't be able to nap if you do."

**You were just sleeping with mama.**

The older blonde glanced sideways at Misty but the girl ignored her, arm thrown over her eyes as she hummed, only peeking momentarily to watch Janjak sign his words. She let out a giggle and turned away.

"We were up. We were just talking," his mother said. "We're getting up. Right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"I think Kyle's making lunch today-"

**He is.**

"Why don't you go help him? We'll be right down." Janjak nodded appreciatively and pressed a kiss to his mother's cheek when prompted before wriggling out of her grasp. He threw Misty a light wave and pulled the door closed shut behind him as he walked away, trailing the blanket on the floor.

Cordelia sighed when Misty wrapped her arms around her waist, but she only looked back and smiled, hands in her lap as she studied blue-green eyes. She squirmed lightly when the girl bit at her shoulder, trying to bite back her laughter, but the wild blonde's soft tongue tracing out to soothe the wounds made her close her eyes involuntarily.

"We're goin' down?" Misty whispered against the shell of her ear. "I thought we were gonna have mommy time this mornin'?"

The Supreme turned in her arms, shifting to place her knees back beneath the duvet, and she kissed the necromancer quickly. "We can have mommy time later, you know that. He's onto us now."

"Damn kid."

Misty yelped lightly as Cordelia pinched her forearm, but her scowl quickly turned into a grin as she watched the Supreme stand, the woman's chest flushing red and her neck turning an interesting shade of purple in parts. Cordelia, at the girl's amused look, glanced quickly into to the mirror and sighed as she traced the patterns with the pads of her fingers over her nightgown.

In a prior life, she'd have gotten angry, perhaps yelled, and the girl in her bed would have stormed out, wild in her demeanor as in everything else about her. But now she only looked back at the ethereal swamp witch laying in between white comforters, the girl's arm behind her head and humming softly to herself, and they shared a smile. Cordelia turned, blushing again.

"Come on, Mist, get something on."

"A nice groove?"

The older blonde turned as she walked to her closet, grimacing as Misty laughed, and the girl shook her head, sitting up.

"Alright, alright. Throw me somethin'?"

She received a skirt a moment later, the fabric landing on her lap in a heap, and she struggled out of bed to put it on as Cordelia slipped into jeans a few feet away.

The Supreme sat next to her son at the dining room table, having helped him up onto his chair as the academy's girls ate lunch around them, the room at a comfortable level of noise. He ate from her plate instead of his own, hand reaching out to grab as she spoke with Zoe, but Misty handed him a fork and he ate with it instead, giving her a grateful smile as she winked. It took a minute for Cordelia to realize half her salad was gone but she only gave Janjak an exasperated sigh, glancing up at Misty who was turned away, busy in conversation with a pyrokinetic close to graduating.

He stayed with Misty when she went to teach her one o'clock class, the girl taking the backyard as it was a pretty day, a warm sun and a cold breeze, to teach zoology, the boy sitting beneath a tree as he watched her conduct a class on Louisiana reptiles. He held on tightly to his teddy bear, repeating the movements she made as she held an iguana to her chest, his mouth lightly open.

Cordelia's smile was soft as she watched the scene from her office window, and shaking her head she closed her blinds and crossed into the hallway, throwing a light wave to Zoe as she taught Latin in the living room, the girls and her seated on the wooden floors. She took the kitchen door down to the greenhouse instead of the outside way in, not wanting to interrupt Misty in her train of thought, but took a moment to turn on the lights in the basement room, fascinated by the thought that if she was to go blind, she wouldn't be able to find her way around.

She'd have to struggle with losing her strongest sense all over again.

She hadn't touched the guilty shears in a long while, they were still placed in a corner of the counters, black with dried blood, untouched as if some magick protected them from being moved or cleaned, even six years after. Instead she used a pair that Misty had gifted her, shifting awkwardly one autumn day. Their grip was comfortable to the touch, padded, and the blades so new they almost sparkled. Like their new life, she mused. Like the Supremacy and like Janjak.

He puzzled her, and she frowned lightly as she snipped at a poinsettia. It'd graced their Christmas table and lived down with her in the greenhouse since, loving the darkness and humidity and flourishing in it. It spoke of a healthy upbringing from bulb to flowering underneath her care, red leaves crimson and green leaves a healthy dark, mossy, color. If only her son would do the same, speak of the same lifestyle, his chocolate eyes wide and lively like hers and his smile always upturned like Misty's, an act he mirrored so easily, but his roots still so shifty in her arms.

Even now she had trouble putting him down when he asked it. She so wanted to hear him whisper to her, begging to be let down to the floor. She'd hold on tight until then, and she'd water the poinsettia.

She bit her lower lip when the greenhouse's door opened and she stepped out of the purple room, closing off the dangerous part of the basement with a quick spell before looking up into Misty's dimpled smile.

"Hi darlin'."

Cordelia grinned, continuing to worry her bottom lip with her teeth. "Hi."

The necromancer walked down the short steps and to the woman's side, smile growing as she framed the Supreme's jaw with her fingers, pulling her up into a quick kiss. Then another.

And another.

Misty pulled away almost reluctantly and pressed her forehead to Cordelia's, her goofy grin quickly returning. "Sorry, I figured I could. Bein' alone down here and all."

Cordelia nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Since there's rules ya had to go and put in so I wouldn't whisk ya away at any moment of the day," the girl added.

The older blonde felt her cheeks flushing and she shook her head, turning back to the vine in between her fingers, a strain of poison ivy she'd been immune to for as long as she remembered. "Is it already three o'clock? I hadn't noticed."

"Yeah, I'm just down here to drop Willie off. I got class for the older girls at four," the necromancer answered. She glanced back behind her, Cordelia following her gaze, and the Supreme sighed as she watched the resident iguana slithering across the floor at a leisurely pace.

Misty shrugged lightly. "Ya know he hates leashes."

"Just don't let him eat anything."

The wild blonde nodded. "What's up with ya?"

"I don't remember," Cordelia admitted, fingering the ivy. "You distracted me." She sighed and placed the plant down, reaching for the girl's shirt and tugging on it until the necromancer came easily, another little sigh escaping her throat when Misty buried into her neck, nipping the skin there until the woman couldn't form a thought. She let herself be pushed into the counter, the dimples in her back warm against the cold wood.

"I put Janjak to bed for his nap," Misty murmured, pressing a kiss to Cordelia's jaw. "But he'll be up soon, he's gettin' too old for them."

The alchemist laughed lightly as she wrapped her arms around her lover's neck, fingers intertwined. "There goes our afternoons."

She waited before she went into Janjak's room later that day, her arms crossed as she incessantly worried her bottom lip with her canines there in the doorway, Misty on her tongue in the best of ways. Janjak stared back, face illuminated by the square of light filtering through the opening, and finally she entered, taking a second to open his curtains before crossing to his bed and sitting by his side, the palm of her hand passing over his forehead.

"Did you sleep at all?"

He signed back a quick no, grimacing at the question like Nan would have, and she felt a deep pain at the thought of the girl he'd never met.

**Mama?**

She looked up, broken from her reverie, and gave him a soft smile.

"Yeah baby?"

**Mama, am I a -?**

Cordelia frowned lightly, watching her son sign the last word and not understanding it, and she leaned back to cross her legs beneath her, heels forgotten on the carpet. She signed it back to him. "What's that mean?"

He spelled it out.** Bastard**.

"Where did you learn that?" she asked harshly. She watched him recoil, knowing he'd done something wrong, and he shrugged lightly, trying to diffuse her sudden anger.

**It's just a word.**

She watched him, dark eyes narrowed like his were, and took his hands in hers, tugging him to her until he leaned against her chest, raising with every stunted breath she took. "Don't you ever say that word again, do you hear me? You're not a bastard," she murmured to him. "You're a miracle. You're my miracle." He nodded, his fingers tightening in the blonde locks that fell around him, and she sighed as she closed her eyes, biting back tears. She only held him closer.

It was a question he'd asked before, that she'd asked herself so many times, one she and he had never received an answer to. _Where's daddy_. He often enough asked why he looked nothing like the two blondes, understanding as he grew older that Misty was not his biological parent, and Cordelia had only begun answering that everyone was born different. Their eyes, their ears,

their color.

At his age, the answer satisfied him enough and he left it alone until it came up again, but now the time between questions became shorter and shorter, and she knew that one day she wouldn't know how to answer.

The truth was still too farfetched.

He wriggled in her grip awkwardly and she let him go, wiping at unshed tears.

**I'm sorry.**

"Don't be, you didn't do anything wrong," she answered him. "Get dressed, alright? We'll go to the park with Misty."

He kissed her cheek with a purposeful wet sound, giggling when she did, and walked to his closet, footie pajamas becoming a little small for him.

Janjak would have beat Misty to the car if not for the blonde's unending legs, knees stronger than his little brittle bones, the two racing ahead as Cordelia fetched her keys and her purse and her umbrella, just in case as always. Meticulous as always.

But the wild blonde was winded by the time he asked for a third run around the playground, chocolate eyes wide and excited like his mother's and with her throat tight as she found it almost impossible to tell him 'no', glancing back at the Supreme over her shoulder. She pushed it away, the uncomfortable feeling deep in her chest, and giggled and cried out _Uncle!_ until he gave in to find another soul to play with. She took the seat Cordelia had saved for her on the bench and sat too close, finding the woman's fingers with her own, the pain in between her ribs lessening, and seemingly, Cordelia's also.

The older woman played with with the rings on Misty's fingers, turning them this way and that and marveling at the green patches of skin the girl got from the cheap jewelry, pulling them off and changing the fingers they rested around. She'd bought her real silver but Misty wouldn't wear them, saving them for 'special occasions', as she put it, but the older blonde and her lover didn't have the same definition of the phrase, the words, blushing endlessly when the necromancer wore them out on simple walks with her, when she felt them pushing inside her.

"He's growing up too fast," Cordelia murmured. Misty looked up, gaze torn away from the hands against hers, and she looked into black eyes looking to the park's edges, narrowed against the New Orleans sun. The Supreme glanced at her, shrugging apologetically, and the girl sat closer, trapping the woman between the bench's armrest and her ribcage.

"I know, darlin'. But what will ya do?"

"Cry. Beg. Both, maybe," the alchemist replied. Her voice dropped a notch. "He's turning six in a month, Misty."

"We're born, we live, we die."

Cordelia let out an irritated sigh, pulling away and crossing her legs, eyes darting to find her son again. "Will he?"

"Delia-"

"I don't know if he'll live, do I? Die? What if-" The Supreme let out a raucous sigh, and she shook her head. "Papa'll come find him. No matter your views. Or mine." She turned to Misty, eyes grim. "You're a necromancer through and through, you talk of life and death and blacks and whites. Janjak is a shade of grey."

Misty nodded slowly.

"He's a shade of red and a shade of orange and green," the woman continued. She angled her head back to Janjak's running form in the distance. "He's-"

"-Freeform."

Cordelia glanced at Misty, jaw tight, and the wild blonde edged closer, taking her neck by the crook of her elbow and pulling her into her chest. If Cordelia cried freely, she would dot the necromancer's shirt with salty tears, leaving Janjak to think nothing of his mothers' embrace.

"Ya know," Misty began, tugging at silky strand of hair. "He is turnin' six, like ya said. We should prepare somethin' big. You'll feel better if ya have a project to work on."

The Supreme sniffed once, pitifully, and she winced at the noise. "You think?"

"I know so," the girl assured her. She pressed a kiss to a warm temple, hot with sweat and stress. "It's all fine, Cordelia, all perfectly fine. He's fine and you're fine." The woman was trembling in her arms, breathing hoarse yet shallow, and she nodded with some difficulty into the crook of the necromancer's neck. "You're his mama, he ain't goin' nowhere."

"Can you promise me that?" Cordelia asked. "Can you?" she repeated, her grip tightening around Misty's arm.

OOOoooOOO

She'd been passing her hands through Janjak's box braid locs for over an hour now, black eyes veered on her son rather than the television playing a cartoon feet away from them, his breathing steadily burrowing into sleep as he fought to stay awake to watch with her.

It was well past midnight, the new moon high in the sky and the academy's lawn pitch black, Misty up in their bedroom to leave Cordelia and her boy alone during their first hours of his birthday, the wee hours of the morning. She'd watched the first movie with them, Beauty and the Beast, but had headed up after it, pressing a kiss to both their foreheads in the process. Cordelia had put on another cartoon and watched the cassette timer tick away, not paying attention to the characters on screen but laughing when Janjak did, enjoying the way his spine arched into her chest.

She'd hugged him closer as midnight had approached, but by then he'd fallen asleep and she hadn't had the heart to wake him to tell him 'happy birthday'. She'd kissed him instead on the cheek, then again, and had shifted so that she could cradle his body in her arms, the boy buried into her neck, little fists tight around the fabric of her shirt. It reminded her of when he had been younger, when he'd been too fragile to do anything but fall asleep in her arms or Misty's.

She watched the cartoon by herself, hand against his little chest and counting the heartbeats between his ribs, her own fingertips cold and his limbs frigid, and she knew she'd felt that feeling before, knew he was feeling it for the first time, and she could do nothing but sleep by his side now. The Supreme closed her eyes when the end credits began to play, and she began to dream a black dream.

It was Janjak who woke her, his frantic shaking of her arm lifting her out of sleep, and she looked down into his worried chocolate eyes with her own. He was standing by the couch, shirt rippled around his body and pajama legs uneven. He signed quickly, words blurring into each other as his gaze began to water out of sheer fear.

**Mama, where are we?**

She looked up, bleary eyed and lost and finally, slowly, she recognized that they weren't in the manor's living room anymore but somewhere she'd been too many times as a child, no matter the times she'd ran away only to be brought back, fingers tight around her reddening ear. She tugged her son closer, hugging him as he began to tremble. As she began to tremble too.

"My house," she replied softly. "When I was a child. Your grandmother's house." She squeezed his fingers in between hers, feeling her heartbeat echo his.

**Why did you bring me here? I don't know her. I never knew her.** He began to get upset again, and she knew he was thinking it was unfair of her, on his birthday, to wake in such a place, but she began to shake her head and he paused long enough to wait for an answer.

"It's-" she took a deep breath, unsure, and took his hands in hers, "Do you remember I told you that there were beings more powerful than I?" He nodded but he didn't believe her, not the Supreme, his mother. "Some beings can move objects, people, to different realms. This isn't our realm, baby."

**Another planet?**

She gave him a watery smile. "Something like that. Are you alright?"

**I'm not hurt.**

"You know what I mean," she said softly. She stood and he grasped at her hand, begging to be picked up, and she did what he asked easily, his frail body fitting against her. "Let's go explore, okay? It's like a game."

He shrugged, unconvinced, but his young mind took to the idea and he began to look around, tears drying on his dark cheeks. For her part, she held on tight and she stared straight ahead, knowing that this hell would loop if she wasn't careful.

The house was as impersonal as it'd been when she'd lived in it, but somehow her thoughts and memories had managed to make it even deader than it'd been then. There was no bouquet in the vase in the foyer like her mother had always insisted on having there, only dead petals gracing the floor. The portraits would have stared back if their eyes hadn't been cut out.

She wondered if Fiona Goode roamed the hallways, and she held Janjak tighter as she shivered, imagining she could hear the former Supreme's heels clicking on the marble tiles. She glanced back over her shoulder, catching shadows, but they didn't take form.

She took the stairs to the second floor, her free hand holding onto the bannister and her fingers running along the inside of it, the movement much too familiar to her. She ripped her hand away and left it on Janjak's back as he looked over her shoulder. He twisted in her arms to gaze over where she was headed and he finally asked to be put down. He ran ahead and she wanted to call after him but he kept in her sights, as if he'd heard her musings.

He turned, beginning to sign, but his hands fell limp to his sides when his back smacked into something. He turned abruptly, head tilting back until he could look into the man's red eyes, the cajun demon six feet tall. He began to let out a whimper, tears springing to his eyes at the skulls and the dead animals hanging off of the man's belt, at the sharp teeth that showed when he grinned, and he let Cordelia pick him up when she did, burrowing into her neck and peeking out from between blonde strands of hair when he was safe in her arms.

The Supreme gazed at Papa Legba defiantly, her fear for her child overtaking the fear she had for herself, and she shifted her weight to stand taller, still so much shorter than he.

"Cordelia," the demon purred. "My Supreme."

Janjak pulled away momentarily to sign, big brown eyes opened wide.

He motioned with one hand, spelled out words, as he hung onto Cordelia with his other. **Mama, mama who is that why does he know you mama he's scary-**

"Janjak," the woman breathed. She shifted her son from one hip to the other, the child forced to gaze into Legba's eyes. "Meet your father."

Papa's grin grew wide. "Child."

The boy's lower lip trembled as he raked his eyes over the man who had gotten his attention. His grip tightened on his mother, her neck turning red with the force he exerted on her, and he shook his head, fighting back tears.

"Not what you expected?" the man mused. "Fathers rarely are." His red eyes looked to the Supreme. "He's old enough now."

**Old enough? For what?**

The woman stuck her chin out. "I don't believe you. I won't believe you," she tried. "He's just a baby, just an infant-"

"Six years old today, Janjak?"

The answer was long to come. **Yes**.

Legba _tsk_ed. "Hardly an infant, Cordelia." He narrowed his eyes. "He doesn't speak."

"No, he," the blonde glanced down at her son. "He doesn't speak."

"A disease? An issue?"

"A personal choice, I think," Cordelia murmured. She passed a hand through Janjak's hair and she looked up, jaw tight. "He's perfect."

"No doubt," Legba replied. "You know why you're here, Supreme. I told you I would see you again. He's old enough now to shift between worlds."

"He's not," Cordelia hissed back.

The demon ignored her. "He's mine." He held his hands out and despite her racing thoughts and her demanding heartbeat, she gave over Janjak, the child wriggling in his father's grip, but Legba's arms were tight around his waist and he finally settled down, eyes veered on his mother. "A strong boy. A healthy boy. Why won't you speak, hmm?" he asked softly. "Has your charge already gotten to your heart and silenced you?"

"Charge?"

Legba looked up. "He has a destiny to fulfill, Cordelia. I cannot rule Hell by myself. Not these many hells. Some fight more than others." He bounced Janjak on his hip. "Perhaps he'll meet his grandmother? Would you like to?"

**I wanna stay with mommy.**

"Do you?" Legba wondered. "You think it's your choice?"

**Mama said that everything is my choice**, Janjak signed dutifully.** I don't have to do anything I don't want to do**. He glanced at Cordelia. **Except for chores**. His mother gave him a quick smile despite herself. He looked back to Legba and began to wriggle, moving until the demon could do nothing but put him back on the ground. **You might be my father, but you're not my dad. I love my mom and my mama and I want to go home. Back to my planet.**

The man was amused. "You stomp your foot at me? What a way to raise a child, Supreme."

"He was taught to not trust strangers," Cordelia growled back.

"I am a stranger, then," Legba said softly He bent down to be level with the boy. "I will come for you, Janjak Goode. You will do what you were born to do." The boy stuck his chin out, looking so much like Misty and Cordelia together, but didn't have anything to say. To that the demon laughed, and he stood again. "Your mother won't always be able to protect you, her and her powers."

**I'll protect myself.**

"His soul doesn't belong to you unless he gives it freely," Cordelia reminded the man softly. "No matter my own power. If he won't allow it, you won't have him. Isn't that a cardinal rule?"

Papa smiled but he looked less sure than before, his eyes glancing between the two. "Would you not do as I ask of you? You would be limitless, child."

Janjak shifted awkwardly.

"Limitless, Janjak," the demon started again. "Free to give or take life, free to stop time, start it, warp it until one goes crazy. My power and your mother's, together." He stood to his full height. "You are a god, boy."

**I just wanna be a kid.**

Cordelia shook her head. "He doesn't want any of you, Papa."

Legba gazed her over, an angry spark in his eyes. His voice was threatening, dark. "Remember, Supreme, at the end of the day,_ you_ belong here."

"I know."

"You will come back."

"I will," she said. "But not him."

"Then I'll have one of you." He threw his hand out. "Go home. You'll hear of me." He pointed at the boy. "Your soul will hear of me. Every day of your birth I will come to you,and when you die you will have to do what you were made to do. Destinies are not changed."

Janjak sneered lightly, mirroring his father's own signature smirk, and dragged Cordelia with him back down the stairs, back to the couch they'd woken up on, and he sat the Supreme next to him before burrowing into her. He willed her to sleep with him and she held him tight, ignoring the pair of eyes watching from the corner and instead speaking to him in a low voice, little apologies and testaments of love.

She woke before him, heart hammering as she twisted on the couch to find her son, but he was sleeping peacefully against her with his eyebrows raised. She breathed out and bent down to press her lips to his forehead as the grandfather clock struck nine, as a necromancer let out a loud curse from the kitchen.

They were inside Robichaux's, far from her mother's house that, years earlier, she'd sold to the state as a historic monument. That she'd seen emptied and refurbished completely, the porch changed back to its original architecture and her greenhouse torn down, added to the plans a hundred years after the manor's construction.

She raised and took the time to drape a blanket over Janjak, finding it hard to leave him there but she didn't have the heart to wake him, not with what he'd endured. Though he seemed to be taking it better than her, even now as he dreamed no dreams.

Whatever Papa had threatened her with, no matter that he'd made the child for the sole purpose of using him, for now he'd let the idea go. She figured Janjak wouldn't let himself get turned over so quickly. And if he did, it'd be his own choice.

And once she died, he could do whatever he wanted.

She looked up, a fist on her skirt and tugging, and black eyes watched her with a little frown. Janjak smiled. **I'm not leaving. Okay? I'm staying here with you.** Cordelia nodded breathlessly and her son nodded back to seal the deal before turning on the couch to fall asleep again, little heart exhausted.

She half-ran to the kitchen, skidding across the momentary linoleum floor an ancient Supreme had had put in in the 70s, re-wooded partially by Myrtle, and came to a stop to watch her wild blonde of a lover humming, previous anger seemingly forgotten though her thumb was in a band-aid.

Misty turned, a large smile on her face as she raised her arms slightly to show off the birthday cake she'd finished for Janjak's sixth year, but her grin began to fade as she watched Cordelia shake as she stood at the kitchen's door.

"Delia, are ya okay?" she murmured, crossing to meet her lover, leaving the pastry on the counter. "Darlin', what is it?"

The Supreme shook her head, tears free flowing as she held onto the necromancer's fingers, hands intertwined between them. "Nothing's wrong, Misty," she said. The girl nodded, confused. "Everything's perfectly fine."

OOOoooOOO

He'd turned into a handsome young man, one his mothers were so proud of, but now he didn't feel so proud, not as he watched his Supreme dying on her bed, the necromancer at her side and holding her as carefully as she could.

He knew his father watched too. He glanced over his shoulder and though no one was there, the pair of red eyes was constant in his mind, the whispers loud in his ear. He'd gone before, to Hell. He hadn't told Cordelia, he hadn't wanted to hurt her, but he'd gone. He'd made a deal. He'd worked during the nights for his father the god, and worked during the day for his mother the witch, Cordelia constantly amused and confused that he was ever so tired though he slept through the night. Misty laughed along, but she knew better.

Of course it was a front. The wild blonde knew he died every time the moon rose, it was too obvious for her. Maybe his mother knew too, she'd been there more than once, she knew the signs. Maybe she was in denial.

She couldn't be in much more now, sick as she was.

He'd let his charge go for a few nights now, dutifully staying at her bedside as she gave in to stage three cancer, body racked with pain and electrical shocks that left her crying for death. The new Supreme sat on the staircase, sobbing too as she finally realized what the older blonde had meant by 'a burden of a task'.

But he'd made a deal. A thousand years of his immortal soul at every beck and call for a little slice of heaven in an otherwise black pit of despair. Paradise for his mother though she was First Witch. His father had smirked at the gesture but hadn't dared say no.

And when Misty, too, passed, she would be allowed to join Cordelia in the afterlife.

He never wanted to see his mother, either one, cry again.

He came to sit by the bed and took Cordelia's free hand in his own two, the other intertwined and taken by Misty's faltering grasp, and he dropped his forehead to hers. A pair of blue-green eyes and a pair of red gazed him over. The dying Supreme took a deep breath, air rattling in her lungs, and she held on tight to her son, her miracle.

"It's alright, mother, let go," he soothed. "Everything's taken care of."


End file.
